UC-NRLF 


$B    3Db    EEO 


W^ 


"^-K 

) 


^ 


•.v-;-'- 


V,  »' 


'A    \^» 


b/^;:/^- 


c^ 


MONI  THE  GOAT  BOY 


AND  OTHER  STORIES 


mu    Translated   from  the   German  of 
Johanna   Spyri,   author 
OF   **  Heidi  " 


BY 


EDITH   F.   KUNZ 


GINN  &  COMPANY       \ 

BOSTON  •  NEW  YORK  •  CHICAGO  •  LONDON 


Copyright,  1906 
By  EDITH   F.  KUNZ 


ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 

* 

66.1 


EDUC- 
PSYCH. 
LIBRARY 

GIFT 

gbc  iatf;en«um  K^ttsti 

GINN   &  COMPANY  •  PRO- 
PRIETORS •  BOSTON  •  U.S.A. 


Hog 

INTRODUCTION 

Outside  of  the  province  of  the  Marchen,  which 
constitutes  so  rich  a  field  in  German  Hterature, 
there  is  no  writer  better  known  or  better  loved  in 
the  young  German-speaking  world  than  Johanna 
Spyri.  Her  stories,  written  "for  children  and 
those  who  love  children,"  are  read  and  reread  as 
something  that  never  grows  old.  The  secret  of 
this  charm  Ues,  above  all,  in  the  author's  genuine 
love  of  children,  as  shown  in  her  sympathetic  in- 
sight into  the  joys,  the  hopes,  and  the  longings  of 
childhood,  and  in  her  skillful  selection  of  character- 
istic details,  which  creates  an  atmosphere  of  reality 
that  is  rare  in  books  written  for  children. 

Johanna  Heusser  Spyri  was  born  in  the  little 
Swiss  town  of  Hirzel,  canton  of  Zurich,  in  1827, 
and  died  in  Zurich  in  1901.  She  wrote  especially 
for  young  people,  her  writings  dealing  mostly  with 

068 


vi  INTRODUCTION 

Swiss  mountain  life  and  portraying  the  thrifty, 
industrious  nature  of  the  people.  The  stories  are 
sometimes  sad,  —  for  the  peasant's  life  is  full  of 
hardships,  —  but  through  them  all  a  fresh  mountain 
breeze  is  blowing  and  a  play  of  sunlight  illumines 
the  high  Alps. 


CONTENTS 


MONI   THE   GOAT   BOY 

Chapter  Page 

I.  MoNi  IS  Happy 3 

11.  MoNi's  Life  on  the  Mountain  .....  10 

III.  A  Visit 21 

IV.  MONI    CANNOT    SING 3 1 

V.    MONI    SINGS    ONCE    MORE 4 1 

WITHOUT   A   FRIEND 

I.  He  is  Good  for  Nothing 49 

II.  In  the  Upper  Pasture 61 

III.  A  Ministering  Angel       75 

IV.  As  the  Mother  wishes  it 85 

THE    LITTLE    RUNAWAY 

I.  Under  the  Alders 103 

11.  The  Two  Farms 119 

III.  Going  astray 139 

IV.  What    Gretchen    learned    at    Sunday 

School .' 159 

V.  How  Renti  learns  a  Motto 175 

VI.  All  Buschweil  is  Amazed 186 

vii 


LIST   OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Running  along  in  their  midst  came  the  goat  boy    Frontispiece 

Page 

"  Hold  fast,  Meggy  !  .  .  .  I  'm  coming  down  to  get  you  "  1 7 
He  drew  her  close  to  him  and  held  her  fast  .  .  .  .  25 
He  thought  over  what  he  had  promised  Jordie  •  •  •  33 
With  happy   song  and  yodel    Moni    returned    in   the 

evening 45 

He  would  hunt  up  a  hedge  or  a  bush  and  hide  behind  it  57 
"  Come  out,  child  !    You  need  not  be  afraid  "  ....     69 

He  greedily  drank  the  cool  water 83 

Never  in  his  life  had  Rudi  seen  so  many  good  things 

together  on  a  table 97 

He  charged  down  upon  the  steer    . 109 

There  he  stayed  for  hours  without  stirring  .  .  .  .136 
"  Why  are  you  standing  out  here  ?  .  .  .  And  why  are 

you  crying?" 150 

"  I  'd  like  to  chop  down  all  his  trees  !  " 168 

"  The  dog  will  understand  instantly,  you  may  depend 

upon  it " 1 79 

"  Brindle,  dear  Brindle,  do  you  know  me  ?  "      ....  203 


MONI   THE    GOAT   BOY 


MONI   THE   GOAT   BOY 


CHAPTER   r 
MONI    IS    HAPPY 

The  baths  of  Fideris  lie  halfway  up  the  mountain 
side,  overlooking  the  long  valley  of  the  Prattigau. 
After  you  leave  the  highway  and  climb  a  long, 
steep  ascent,  you  come  first  upon  the  village  of 
Fideris,  with  its  pleasant  green  slopes.  Then, 
ascending  still  higher  into  the  mountains,  you  at 
length  come  upon  the  lonely  hotel  building  in  the 
midst  of  rocky  cliffs  and  fir  trees.  Here  the  region 
would  indeed  be  rather  dreary  looking  were  it  not 
for  the  bright  little  mountain  flowers  that  shine 
forth  everywhere  from  the  low  grass. 

One  pleasant  summer  evening  two  ladies  stepped 
out  from  the  hotel  and  ascended  the  narrow  footpath 

3 


MONI   THE   GOAT   BOY 


that  runs  up  steeply  from  the  house  to  the  rugged 
cliffs  above.  On  reaching  the  first  peak  the  visitors 
stopped  and  looked  about,  for  they  had  but  recently 
come  to  the  resort. 

'*  Not  very  cheerful  up  here,  is  it,  auntie  ? "  said 
the  younger  of  the  two,  as  she  surveyed  the  scene. 
"  Nothing  but  rocks  and  fir  trees,  and  beyond,  more 
rocks  and  firs.  If  we  are  to  spend  six  weeks  here, 
I  wish  we  might  have  some  pleasant er  prospect." 

"  I  'm  afraid  it  would  not  add  to  your  cheerful- 
ness, Paula,  if  you  should  lose  your  diamond  pen- 
dant up  here,"  replied  her  aunt,  as  she  fastened 
Paula's  velvet  neck  ribbon  from  which  the  sparkling 
cross  hung.  "  This  is  the  third  time  I  have  tied  it 
since  we  came.  I  don't  know  whether  the  fault  is 
in  yourself  or  in  the  ribbon,  but  I  do  know  that 
you  would  be  sorry  to  lose  it." 

"No,  no,"  cried  Paula;  *'I  must  not  lose  the 
cross  !  No,  indeed !  It  is  from  grandmamma  and 
is  my  dearest  treasure." 

She  added  two  or  three  knots  to  the  ribbon  her- 
self to  make  it  secure.  Suddenly  she  raised  her 
head  attentively  and  exclaimed:  *' Listen,  listen, 
auntie!  that  sounds  like  something  really  jolly." 

From  far  above  came  the  notes  of  a  merry  song ; 
occasionally  there  was  heard  a  long,  echoing  yodel, 
then  more  singing.    The  ladies  looked^ up,  but  no 


MONI    IS   HAPPY  5 

living  creature  was  to  be  seen.  The  winding  path, 
turning  in  great  curves  between  rocks  and  bushes, 
was  visible  only  in  patches.  But  presently  it  seemed 
all  alive,  — above,  below,  wherever  parts  of  it  could 
be  seen,  —  and  louder  and  nearer  came  the  singing. 
''  Look,  look,  auntie  !  There,  there  !  see  !  "  cried 
Paula  in  great  delight,  as  three,  four,  five  goats 
came  bounding  down,  and  behind  them  others  and 
still  others,  each  one  wearing  a  little  tinkhng  bell. 
Running  along  in  their  midst  came  the  goat  boy, 
singing  the  last  lines  of  his  song: 

"  The  winter  is  cold, 

But  who  would  be  sad  ? 
For  spring  will  return 

To  make  the  world  glad." 

With  an  echoing  yodel  the  boy  finished  his  song, 
and  skipping  along  meanwhile  in  his  bare  feet  as 
nimbly  as  his  goats,  he  presently  reached  the  side 
of  the  ladies. 

"  Good  evening  to  you,"  he  said,  looking  up  at 
them  with  dancing  eyes,  and  was  about  to  go  on. 
But  they  liked  this  goat  boy  with  the  bright  eyes. 

"Wait  a  moment,"  said  Paula.  "Are  you  the 
goat  boy  of  Fideris  ?  And  are  these  the  goats 
from  the  village  ?  " 

"To  be  sure  they  are,"  he  answered. 


6  MONI   THE   GOAT  BOY 

"  And  do  you  take  them  up  every  day  ? " 

*•  Yes,  of  course." 

*'  Indeed  ?    And  what  is  your  name  ?  " 

**  I  am  called  Moni." 

**  Will  you  sing  me  the  song  you  were  just  sing- 
ing?   We  heard  only  a  few  lines  of  it." 

"  It  is  too  long,"  said  Moni.  "  The  goats  should  n't 
be  kept  out  so  late ;  they  must  go  home."  Setting 
his  weathered  little  hat  to  rights,  he  flourished  his 
switch  at  the  browsing  goats  and  called,  *'  Home, 
home !  " 

"  Then  you  will  sing  it  for  me  some  other  time, 
won't  you,  Moni.'* "  cried  Paula  after  him. 

"  Yes,  yes  ;  good  night !  "  he  called  back  and 
started  on  a  trot  with  his  goats.  In  a  few  moments 
the  whole  flock  had  arrived  at  the  outbuildings  of 
the  hotel,  where  Moni  had  to  leave  the  landlord's 
goats,  the  pretty  white  one  and  the  black  one  with 
the  dainty  little  kid.  This  little  one  Moni  cared 
for  very  tenderly,  for  it  was  a  delicate  little  crea- 
ture and  his  favorite  of  them  all.  Little  Meggy,  in 
turn,  showed  her  affection  for  the  boy  by  keeping 
very  close  to  him  all  day  long.  In  the  stable  he 
put  her  gently  in  her  place,  saying :  "  There,  sleep 
well,  little  Meggy ;  you  must  be  tired.  It 's  a  long 
trip  for  a  little  goat  like  you.  But  here  is  your 
nice  clean  bed." 


MONI    IS   HAPPY 


After  laying  her  down  in  the  fresh  straw  he 
started  with  his  herd  down  the  highway  toward 
the  village.  Presently  he  lifted  his  little  horn  to 
his  lips  and  blew  a  blast  that  resounded  far  down 
the  valley.  At  that  the  village  children  came 
tumbling  from  their  homes  on  all  sides.  Each  one 
recognizing  his  own  goat  made  a  rush  for  it  and 
took  it  home,  while  women,  too,  came  out  of  the 
near-by  houses  and  led  away  their  goats  by  neck 
ropes  or  by  the  horns.  In  a  few  moments  the  whole 
herd  was  dispersed  and  each  goat  was  stabled  in 
its  proper  place.  Moni  was  left  with  his  own  goat, 
Brownie,  and  the  two  started  off  toward  the  little 
house  on  the  hillside,  where  grandmother  was  wait- 
ing  for  them  in  the  door. 

*'  Has  everything  gone  well,  Moni  ? "  she  asked 
in  friendly  tones,  while  she  led  Brownie  into  the 
stable  and  began  milking  her.  The  old  grand- 
mother was  still  a  strong,  vigorous  woman,  herself 
performing  all  the  duties  of  house  and  stable  and 
preserving  the  best  of  order  everywhere.  Moni 
stood  in  the  stable  door  and  watched  her.  When 
she  had  finished  milking  she  went  into  the  house 
saying,  "  Come  Moni ;  you  must  be  hungry." 

Everything  was  ready  and  Moni  sat  down  to 
eat ;  she  sat  beside  him,  and  though  the  meal  con- 
sisted of  but  a  simple  dish  of  porridge  stewed  with 


MONI   THE  GOAT   BOY 


goat's  milk,  it  was  a  feast  for  the  hungry  boy. 
Meanwhile  he  told  grandmother  what  had  hap- 
pened during  the  day;  then,  as  soon  as  he  had 
finished  his  supper,  he  slipped  off  to  bed,  for  at 
early  dawn  he  was  to  start  out  again  with  his  flock. 

In  this  way  Moni  had  now  spent  two  summers 
and  had  grown  so  accustomed  to  this  life  and  to  the 
companionship  of  his  goats  that  he  could  hardly 
think  of  any  other  existence  for  himself.  He  had 
lived  with  his  grandmother  ever  since  he  could 
remember.  His  mother  had  died  when  he  was  a 
tiny  baby;  his  father  had  soon  after  left  him  to  go 
into  military  service  in  Naples.  The  grandmother 
was  herself  poor,  but  she  immediately  took  the  for- 
saken little  boy,  Solomon,  into  her  own  home  and 
shared  with  him  whatever  she  had  of  food  and  other 
goods.  And,  indeed,  a  blessing  seemed  to  rest  upon 
the  house  from  that  day,  for  never  since  had  she 
suffered  want.  • 

Honest  old  Elsbeth  was  much  respected  in  the 
village,  and  when  there  had  been  a  call  two  years 
before  for  a  new  goat  boy  the  choice  fell  unani- 
mously upon  Moni,  for  every  one  was  glad  to  help 
the  good  woman  along  in  this  way.  Not  a  single 
morning  had  the  God-fearing  grandmother  started 
the  boy  off  without  reminding  him :  **Moni,  do  not 
forget  how  close  you  are  to  God  up  there  in  the 


MONI    IS   HAPPY 


mountains  ;  how  he  sees  and  hears  everything  and 
how  you  can  hide  nothing  from  his  eyes.  But  re- 
member, too,  that  he  is  always  near  to  help  you, 
so  you  need  not  fear  ;  and  if  there  is  no  one  at 
hand  to  help  you  in  time  of  need,  call  upon  God, 
and  his  hand  will  not  fail  you." 

So  Moni  had  always  gone  forth  trustfully  to  his 
mountain  heights,  and  on  the  loneliest  peaks  he 
knew  no  fear,  for  he  always  thought,  "  The  higher 
up  I  go,  the  nearer  I  am  to  the  good  God  and 
therefore  the  safer  in  everything  that  may  happen 
to  me."  So,  free  from  care,  he  could  enjoy  every- 
thing about  him  from  morning  to  night.  No  won- 
der, then,  that  he  sang  and  whistled  and  yodeled 
all  day  long,  for  he  must  express  his  happiness 
somehow. 


CHAPTER  II 


MONI'S    LIFE   ON   THE   MOUNTAIN 


Next  morning  Paula  awakened  unusually  early; 
a  lusty  singing  had  roused  her  from  sleep.  "  It 
must  be  the  goat  boy,"  she  said,  jumping  up  and 
running  to  the  window. 

Sure  enough,  there  he  stood  with  bright,  shin- 
ing face ;  he  had  just  taken  the  old  goat  and  the 
little  kid  out  of  the  stable.  Now  he  flourished  his 
switch,  the  goats  skipped  and  ran  about  him,  and 
the  whole  procession  started  on.  Presently  Moni's 
voice  was  again  heard  echoing  from  the  hills : 

<'  Up  mid  the  pine  trees 
The  birds  join  in  song, 
And  though  rain  clouds  may  darken, 
The  sun 's  out  erelong." 

**  This  evening  he  must  sing  me  the  whole  song," 
said  Paula ;  for  Moni  had  now  disappeared  and  his 
distant  song  could  no  longer  be  heard. 


MONI'S   LIFE   ON  THE   MOUNTAIN  n 

Red  morning  clouds  still  hung  in  the  sky  and  a 
fresh  mountain  breeze  was  rustling  about  Moni's 
ears  as  he  climbed  up  the  mountain.  It  was  just 
what  he  liked.  He  stopped  on  the  first  peak,  and 
for  sheer  happiness  yodeled  forth  so  lustily  into 
the  valley  that  many  a  sleeper  in  the  hotel  opened 
his  eyes  in  surprise,  but  quickly  closed  them  again, 
for  he  recognized  the  voice  and  so  knew  that  he 
might  have  another  hour's  nap,  as  the  goat  boy 
always  came  very  early.  Meanwhile  Moni  con- 
tinued climbing  for  an  hour,  higher  and  higher,  up 
to  the  rocky  ledges. 

The  view  grew  wider  and  more  beautiful  the 
higher  he  climbed.  Occasionally  he  would  stop  to 
look  about  him,  across  at  the  mountains  and  up  to 
the  bright  sky  that  was  growing  bluer  and  bluer, 
and  then  he  would  sing  out  in  a  strong,  happy  voice  : 

"  Up  mid  the  pine  trees 
•         The  birds  join  in  song, 

And  though  rain  clouds  may  darken, 
The  sun  's  out  erelong. 

"  The  sun  and  the  stars 

And  the  moon  shining  clear, 
These  the  dear  God  has  made 
For  our  comfort  and  cheer. 

"  In  the  spring  there  are  flowers, 
Red,  yellow,  and  white, 


12  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

And  the  sky  is  so  blue 
I  am  wild  with  delight. 

"  The  summer  brings  berries 
Of  many  a  kind, 
Red  ones  and  black  ones,  — 
I  eat  all  I  find. 

"  In  fall  I  hunt  nuts  ; 

And  I  'm  sure  that  I  know 
Why  the  goats  like  to  graze 
Where  the  best  grasses  grow. 

"  The  winter  is  cold, 

But  who  would  be  sad? 
For  spring  will  return 
To  make  the  world  glad." 

Now  he  had  reached  the  spot  where  he  usually 
stayed  and  where  he  meant  to  rest  for  a  while 
to-day.  It  was  a  little  green  plateau  standing  out 
from  the  mountain  side,  so  that  one  might  look 
out  from  it  in  all  directions  and  far  down,  into  the 
valley.  This  projection  was  called  the  "  Pulpit." 
Here  Moni  would  often  sit  for  hours,  looking  out 
over  the  surrounding  country,  whistling  to  himself, 
while  his  goats  were  contentedly  gathering  herbs. 

As  soon  as  Moni  had  reached  this  spot  he  un- 
strapped his  lunch  box  from  his  back,  laid  it  in  a 
little  hollow  which  he  had  dug  for  it  in  the  earth, 
and  then  went  out  on  the  Pulpit,  where  he  stretched 


MONI'S   LIFE   ON   THE   MOUNTAIN  13 

out  on  the  ground  and  gave  himself  up  to  the  full 
enjoyment  of  the  hour.  The  sky  was  now  dark 
blue ;  on  the  opposite  mountains  ice  fields  and 
sharp  peaks  had  come  to  view,  and  far  below  the 
green  valley  lay  sparkling  in  the  morning  light. 
Moni  lay  there,  looking  about  him,  singing  and 
whistling.  The  wind  cooled  his  hot  face,  and  when 
his  own  notes  ceased  for  a  moment  the  birds  over- 
head whistled  all  the  more  merrily  as  they  mounted 
into  the  blue  sky.  Moni  felt  indescribably  happy. 
Now  and  then  little  Meggy  would  come  to  him  and 
rub  her  head  against  his  shoulder  in  her  affection- 
ate way,  bleat  tenderly,  and  then  go  to  the  other 
side  and  rub  against  his  other  shoulder.  The  old 
ones,  too,  would  come  up  now  and  then  and  show 
their  friendship  in  their  own  particular  fashion. 

Brownie,  his  own  goat,  had  a  way  of  coming  up 
to  him  quite  anxiously  and  looking  him  over  very 
carefully  to  see  whether  he  was  all  right.  She 
would  stand  before  him,  waiting,  until  he  said : 
*'Yes,  yes,  Brownie;  it's  all  right.  Go  back  to 
your  grazing  now."  Swallow,  the  slender,  lively 
little  creature  that  darted  to  and  fro  like  a  swallow 
in  and  out  of  its  nest,  always  came  up  with  the 
young  white  one.  The  two  would  charge  down 
upon  Moni  with  a  force  that  would  have  over- 
thrown him  had  he  not  already  been  stretched  flat 


14  MONI   THE  GOAT   BOY 

on  the  ground.  After  a  brief  visit  they  would  dart 
off  again  as  quickly  as  they  had  come. 

The  shiny  black  one,  little  Meggy's  mother,  who 
belonged  to  the  hotel,  was  rather  proud.  She 
would  stand  off  several  feet  from  the  boy,  look  at 
him  with  a  lofty  air,  as  if  afraid  of  seeming  too 
familiar,  and  then  pass  on  her  way.  Sultan,  the 
big  leader  of  the  flock,  in  the  one  daily  visit  that  he 
paid  would  rudely  push  aside  any  other  goat  that 
might  be  near,  give  several  significant  bleats,  — 
probably  meant  for  reports  on  the  condition  of  his 
family,  — and  then  turn  away. 

Little  Meggy  alone  refused  to  be  pushed  away 
from  her  protector.  When  Sultan  came  and  tried 
to  thrust  her  aside,  she  would  slip  down  as  far  as 
she  could  under  Moni's  arm,  and  thus  protected 
she  had  no  fear  of  the  big  buck,  who  was  other- 
wise so  formidable  to  her. 

Thus  the  sunshiny  morning  passed.  Moni  had 
finished  his  noon  lunch  and  was  leaning  meditatively 
on  the  long  cane  which  he  always  kept  at  hand  for 
difificult  places.  He  was  thinking  about  a  new  ascent, 
for  he  meant  to  go  up  higher  with  the  goats  this 
afternoon.  The  question  was,  which  side  should  he 
take,  right  or  left  ?  He  chose  the  left,  for  there  he 
would  come  to  the  three  "Dragon  Rocks,"  about 
which  the  tenderest,  most  luscious  herbage  grew. 


MONI'S   LIFE   ON  THE   MOUNTAIN  15 

The  path  was  steep  and  there  were  dangerous 
places  along  a  precipitous  wall,  but  he  knew  a  good 
road  and  the  goats  were  sensible  creatures  and 
would  not  easily  run  astray.  He  started  and  the 
goats  ran  merrily  along,  now  before  him,  now  be- 
hind, little  Meggy  always  very  close  to  him ;  some- 
times he  picked  her  up  and  carried  her  over  the 
worst  places.  But  all  went  well  and  they  reached 
the  desired  spot  safely.  The  goats  made  a  rush  for 
the  green  bushes,  remembering  the  juicy  shoots 
they  had  enjoyed  there  before. 

"Gently,  gently!"  Moni  warned  them.  "Don't 
butt  one  another  along  the  steep  places.  You 
might  easily  slide  off  and  have  your  legs  broken. 
Swallow,  Swallow,  what  are  you  about  ? "  he  called 
out  excitedly  to  the  cliff  above.  The  nimble  goat 
had  scrambled  over  the  high  Dragon  Rock  and  was 
now  standing  on  the  outer  edge  of  the  cliff,  looking 
down  saucily  upon  him.  He  hastily  scrambled  up 
the  cliff,  meanwhile  keeping  an  anxious  eye  upon 
the  goat,  for  a  single  misstep  would  have  landed  her 
in  the  abyss  below.  Moni  was  agile  and  in  a  few 
moments  he  had  climbed  the  rock  and,  with  a  quick 
movement,  had  •  grasped  Swallow  by  the  leg  and 
pulled  her  back.  "You  come  with  me  now,  you 
foolish  little  beast,"  he  said  as  he  drew  her  down 
to  where  the  others  were  feeding.     He  held  her 


l6  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

for  a  while,  until  she  was  contentedly  nibbling  at 
a  tender  shrub  and  had  no  more  thoughts  of 
running  away. 

Suddenly  Moni  cried  out,  ''Where  is  little 
Meggy?"  He  saw  the  black  mother  standing  alone 
by  a  steep  wall ;  she  was  not  eating,  but  was  look- 
ing all  about  her  and  pointing  her  ears  in  a  strange 
manner.  The  little  kid  was  always  either  beside 
Moni  or  running  after  its  mother. 

**  Where  is  your  little  one,  Blackie?"  he  said, 
standing  close  beside  her  and  looking  up  and 
down.  Then  he  heard  a  faint,  wailing  bleat.  It  was 
Meggy's  voice  and  came  from  far  below,  piteous, 
entreating.  Moni  got  d©wn  on  the  ground  and 
leaned  forward.  Below  him  something  seemed  to 
be  moving ;  now  he  saw  it  plainly,  —  it  was  Meggy 
hanging  in  the  branches  of  a  tree  that  grew  out  of 
the  rocks.    She  was  wailing  pitifully. 

Luckily  the  branch  had  caught  her,  else  she 
would  have  fallen  into  the  abyss  and  been  dashed 
to  death.  If  she  should  even  now  lose  her  hold,  she 
must  plunge  instantly  into  the  depths  below.  In 
terror  he  called  to  her :  "  Hold  fast,  Meggy !  hold 
fast  to  the  tree !   I'm  comingViown-to  get  you." 

But  ho^y  was  he  to  get  there  ?  The  rocks  were 
so  steep  at  this  point  that  he  could  not  possibly 
get  down.  But  he  reflected  that  he  must  be 
somewhere  near  the  *'  Rain  Rock,"  that  overhanging 


I? 


l8  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

cliff  under  which  the  goat  boys  had  for  generations 
found  shelter.  From  there,  thought  Moni,  he  might 
climb  across  the  rocks  and  so  get  back  with  the 
kid.  He  quickly  called  the  goats  together  and 
took  them  to  the  entrance  of  the  Rain  Rock.  There 
he  left  them  to  graze  and  went  out  toward  the 
cliff.  Some  distance  above  him  he  saw  the  tree 
with  Meggy  clinging  to  it. 

He  realized  that  it  would  be  no  easy  matter  to 
climb  up  the  cliff  and  then  down  again  with  Meggy 
on  his  back,  but  there  was  no  other  way  of  res- 
cuing her.  And  then,  too,  he  felt  sure  the  dear 
God  would  help  him,  so  that  he  could  not  fall.  He 
folded  his  hands,  looked  upnnto  heaven,  and  prayed, 
**  Dear  God,  please  help  me  to  save  little  Meggy." 

Then  he  felt  confident  that  all  would  go  well  and 
he  climbed  bravely  up  the  cliff  until  he  reached  the 
tree.  Here  he  held  himself  tight  with  both  feet, 
lifted  the  trembling,  whining  little  creature  to  his 
shoulders,  and  then  worked  his  way  down  very 
cautiously.  When  they  had  the  solid  ground  once 
more  underfoot  and  he  saw  that  the  frightened 
little  goat  was  safe,  he  felt  so  glad  that  he  had  to 
speak  his  thanks  aloud,  and  he  called  up  to  heaven : 
*'Dear  God,  I  thank  you  a  thousand,  thousand  times 
for  helping  us  back  safely.  We  are  both  so  very, 
very  glad." 


MONI'S   LIFE   ON   THE   MOUNTAIN  19 

He  sat  down  on  the  ground  for  a  while  to  caress 
and  quiet  the  little  creature,  that  was  still  trembling 
in  every  limb,  until  it  had  somewhat  recovered  from 
its  terrible  experience. 

When  it  was  time,  soon  afterward,  for  breaking 
up,  Moni  again  lifted  the  kid  to  his  shoulders,  say- 
ing solicitously:  "  Come,  my  poor  little  Meggy ;  you 
are  still  trembling;  you  cannot  walk  home  to-day  ; 
I  must  carry  you."  And  so  he  carried  her,  cuddled 
close  in  his  arm,  all  the  way  home. 

Paula  was  standing  on  the  ledge  near  the  hotel, 
waiting  for  the  boy  to  pass.  Her  aunt  was  with 
her.  When  Moni  came  along  with  his  burden, 
Paula  wanted  to  know  whether  the  little  goat  was 
sick.  She  seemed  so  interested  that  Moni  sat  down 
on  the  ground  before  her  and  told  the  whole  story 
about  Meggy. 

The  young  Fraulein  showed  great  sympathy  and 
stooped  to  caress  the  little  creature,  that  was  now 
lying  quietly  on  Moni's  knees,  looking  very  pretty 
with  its  little  white  feet  and  smooth  black  coat,  and 
evidently  enjoying  the  girl's  attention. 

**  Now  sing  me  your  song  while  you  are  resting 
here  so  comfortably,"   said  Paula. 

Moni  was  so  happy  that  he  gladly  complied  with 
her  request,  and  sang  the  song  through  to  a  lusty 
close. 


20  MONI   THE   GOAT   BOY 

Paula  was  delighted  with  it  and  said  he  must 
sing  it  for  her  often.  Then  the  whole  company 
went  on  down  to  the  hotel.  There  the  little  kid 
was  put  to  bed.  Moni  took  his  leave.  Paula  went 
to  her  room  and  talked  for  a  long  time  about  the 
goat  boy,  about  his  happy  nature,  his  lonely  life  on 
the  mountain,  and  the  joys  and  privations  of  such 
a  life.  In  this  far-off,  strange  hotel  there  was  little 
diversion  for  the  girl,  and  she  was  already  looking 
forward  to  the  boy's  happy  morning  song  as  one  of 
the  pleasures  of  the  morrow. 


(.'• 


Xi- 


w 


CHAPTER   III 


A  VISIT 


Thus  several  days  passed,  each  one  as  sunny  and 
bright  as  the  one  before  it ;  for  it  was  an  unusually 
fine  summer,  and  from  morning  to  night  the  sky 
was  blue  and  cloudless. 

Every  morning  at  early  dawn  the  goat  boy  had 
passed  the  hotel  singing  his  merry  song,  and  had 
come  back  still  singing  at  evening ;  and  all  the 
guests  were  so  accustomed  to  the  cheerful  sound 
that  they  would  have  been  sorry  not  to  hear  it. 

But  Paula,  most  of  all,  enjoyed  Moni's  happiness, 
and  went  to  meet  him  every  evening,  that  she 
might  have  a  little  talk  with  him. 

One  sunshiny  morning  Moni  had  again  reached 
the  Pulpit  and  was  just  about  to  settle  down  upon 
the  ground  when  he  reflected:  "No,  we'll  go  on 
farther  to-day.  The  last  time  we  had  to  leave  all  the 
good,  juicy  food  because  we  went  after  little  Meggy. 
Now  we  '11  go  up  again  and  you  can  finish  grazing." 


22  MONI   THE  GOAT   BOY 

Joyously  the  goats  ran  after  him,  for  they  under- 
stood that  they  were  being  led  to  the  fine  feeding 
on  Dragon  Rock.  But  this  time  Moni  was  careful 
to  hold  little  Meggy  close  in  his  arm  all  the  way. 
He  picked  the  tenderest  leaves  and  fed  them  to 
her,  and  the  little  kid  showed  her  appreciation  by 
rubbing  her  head  against  his  arm  and  bleating  con- 
tentedly from  time  to  time.  So  the  morning  passed 
until  Moni  presently  realized  from  his  hunger  that 
it  had  grown  surprisingly  late.  But  his  lunch  was 
in  the  little  cave  by  the  Pulpit,  for  he  had  intended 
to  be  back  there  by  noon. 

''  Now  you  have  had  many  a  good  mouthful  and 
I  have  had  nothing,"  he  said  to  his  goats.  "  It  is 
time  I  had  something,  too.  Come,  we  '11  go  down ; 
there  is  enough  left  for  you  on  the  lower  slope." 

With  that  he  whistled  shrilly,  and  the  whole 
flock  started  downward,  the  liveliest  ones  in  the 
van ;  Swallow,  the  light-footed  one,  — for  whom  there 
were  unexpected  things  in  store  that  day,  —  in  ad- 
vance of  them  all.  She  jumped  from  rock  to  rock 
and  over  many  a  chasm  ;  but  suddenly  she  could 
go  no  farther,  for  directly  in  front  of  her  stood  a 
chamois,  looking  her  saucily  in  the  face.  Swallow 
had  never  had  such  an  experience  before.  She 
stood  still  and  looked  quest ioningly  at  the  stranger, 
waiting  for  him  to  step  aside  and  allow  her  to  make 


A  VISIT  23 


the  fine  jump  she  had  in  mind  to  the  opposite  rock. 
But  the  chamois  never  moved,  and  stood  staring 
boldly  into  Swallow's  face.  So  they  faced  each  other, 
getting  more  and  more  obstinate  every  moment ; 
they  would  probably  be  standing  there  to  this  day 
had  not  Sultan  come  up  at  this  point.  Taking  in 
the  situation,  he  carefully  moved  past  Swallow  and 
pushed  the  stranger  so  forcibly  to  one  side  that  he 
had  to  make  a  quick  jump  to  escape  sliding  off  the 
cliff.  Then  Swallow  passed  triumphantly  on  her  way 
and  Sultan  marched  proudly  behind  her,  feeling 
himself  to  be  the  mighty  protector  of  the  herd. 

Meanwhile  another  meeting  was  taking  place. 
Moni,  coming  from  above,  and  another  goat  boy 
from  below,  had  met  face  to  face  and  were  looking 
at  each  other  in  astonishment.  But  they  were  old 
acquaintances  and,  after  their  first  surprise,  greeted 
each  other  heartily.  The  newcomer  was  Jordie  from 
Kueblis.  He  had  been  looking  for  Moni  half  the 
morning,  and  now  found  him  where  he  least  expected. 

"  I  did  not  think  you  went  up  so  high  with  the 
goats,"  said  Jordie. 

"To  be  sure  I  do,"  answered  Moni,  *'but  not 
always.  I  am  generally  somewhere  near  the  Pulpit. 
But  why  are  you  up  here  ?  " 

*'  I  wanted  to  see  you  ;  I  have  lots  to  tell  you. 
And  these  two  goats  here  I  am  taking  to  the  hotel 


24  MONI   THE   GOAT   BOY 

keeper ;  he  wants  to  buy  one,  —  so  I  thought  I  'd 
visit  you  on  the  way." 

**  Are  they  your  goats  ? "  asked  Moni. 

"  Of  course  they  are.  I  don't  herd  other  people's 
goats  any  longer.    I'm  not  goat  boy  now." 

Moni  was  surprised  at  this,  for  Jordie  had  started 
out  as  goat  boy  of  Kueblis  at  the  same  time  that 
he  had  been  chosen  from  Fideris.  He  could  not 
understand  how  that  could  all  be  ended  without 
a  sign  of  regret  on  Jordie' s  part. 

But  the  boys  had  by  this  time  reached  the 
Pulpit.  Here  Moni  brought  out  his  bread  and 
dried  meat  and  invited-  Jordie  to  lunch.  They  sat 
out  on  the  Pulpit  and  ate  their  lunch  with  a  relish, 
for  it  had  grown  late  and  both  were  hungry.  When 
they  had  eaten  everything  and  finished  off  with  a 
drink  of  goat's  milk,  Jordie  stretched  out  full  length 
on  the  ground  and  leaned  his  head  on  his  arms; 
but  Moni  preferred  to  sit  up  and  look  out  over 
the  great  valley. 

''  But  if  you  are  no  longer  goat  boy,  Jordie,  what 
are  you.**"  Moni  began.  ''You  must  be  some- 
thing." 

"Of  course  I  am  something,  —  something  worth 
while,  you  may  believe,"  answered  Jordie.  ''  I  am 
egg  boy.  I  go  to  the  hotels  with  eggs  every  day. 
I  go  up  to  the  baths,  too.    Was  there  yesterday." 


_    -n^^r- 

v^ 

— *c^* 

:r- 

r 

. 

=^^^r^ 

S5?=:s 

^^~  -;-^ 

^^^ 

<=^ 

^ 

^s::^ 


25 


26  MONI   THE   GOAT   BOY 

Moni  shook  his  head.  *' That  wouldn't  do  for 
me,  —  to  be  egg  boy.  No,  I  'd  rather  be  goat  boy, 
a  thousand  times  rather.    That  is  much  better." 

**  And  why,  I'd  like  to  know  ? " 

**  Eggs  are  n't  alive.  You  can't  talk  with  them, 
and  they  won't  follow  you  like  goats,  and  be  glad 
when  you  come,  and  love  you,  and  understand  every 
word  you  say  to  them.  You  can't  possibly  enjoy 
your  eggs  as  I  do  my  goats." 

"  Yes  ;  great  enjoyment  you  must  have  up  here ! " 
said  Jordie  scornfully.  "What  pleasures  do  you 
have.-*  Since  we've  been  sitting  here  you've  had 
to  jump  up  about  six  times  to  run  after  that  silly 
little  goat,  to  keep  her  from  falling  over  the  rock. 
Is  that  any  pleasure  .-*  " 

**Yes,  I  like  it.  You  know  that,  Meggy,  don't 
you  ?  Careful,  careful !  "  he  called,  jumping  up  and 
running  after  her,  for  in  her  joy  she  was  capering 
about  most  recklessly. 

When  he  came  back  Jordie  said,  "  Don't  you 
know  that  there  is  another  way  of  keeping  young 
goats  from  falling  over  the  cliffs,  that  will  save 
your  running  after  them  every  few  minutes  ?  " 

<*  How  is  that  ?  "  asked  Moni. 

*'  Drive  a  stake  into  the  ground  and  tie  the  goat 
to  it  by  one  leg ;  she  will  struggle  desperately,  but 
she  can't  get  away." 


A  VISIT  27 


*'  You  don't  really  think  that  I  would  do  such  a 
thing  to  little  Meggy !  "  cried  Moni  indignantly, 
while  he  drew  her  close  to  him  and  held  her  fast, 
as  though  to  defend  her  from  such  treatment. 

*'This  little  one,  of  course,  won't  bother  you 
much  longer,"  Jordie  went  on.  ''There  won't  be 
many  more  times  for  it  to  come  up." 

"  What  ?  what  ?    What  did  you  say,  Jordie  ?  " 

"  Pshaw !  Don't  you  know  that  the  landlord 
does  n't  mean  to  raise  it  ?  It  is  too  weak ;  he 
thinks  it  will  never  grow  to  be  a  strong  goat.  He 
wanted  to  sell  it  to  my  father,  but  father  did  not 
want  it.  So  now  he  is  going  to  kill  it,  and  then  he 
will  buy  our  Spottie." 

Moni  had  grown  white  with  horror.  For  a  mo- 
ment he  could  not  speak ;  then  he  broke  forth  in 
a  loud  wail  over  the  little  goat :  *'  No,  no !  they 
shan't  do  it,  my  little  Meggy ;  they  shan't  kill 
you.  I  won't  have  it ;  I  'd  rather  die  with  you ! 
No,  no!  I  can't  let  them;  I  can't  let  them." 

"  Don't  carry  on  so  !  "  said  Jordie,  annoyed  ;  and 
he  pulled  Moni  up  from  the  ground,  where  he 
had  thrown  himself,  face  downward,  in  his  grief. 
''Come,  get  up.  You  know  the  kid  belongs  to 
the  landlord  and  he  can  do  with  it  as  he  pleases. 
Don't  think  about  it  any  more.  Here,.  I  have  some- 
thing else.    Look  !  look  here  !  "  and  Jordie  held  out 


28  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

one  hand  toward  Moni,  while  with  the  other  he 
almost  covered  something  that  he  was  offering  for 
Moni's  admiration.  It  flashed  out  most  wonderfully 
from  between  his  hands  as  the  sun  shone  upon  it. 

"  What  is  it .?  "  asked  Moni,  seeing  it  sparkle. 

"  Guess ! " 

"  A  ring .?  " 

"  No  ;  but  something  of  the  sort." 

"  Who  gave  it  to  you  ?" 

"Gave  it  ?    Nobody.    I  found  it." 

*'  Then  it  does  n't  belong  to  you,  Jordie." 

"  Why  not  ?  I  did  n't  steal  it.  I  almost  stepped 
on  it ;  then  it  would  have  been  crushed  anyway.  So 
I  might  as  well  have  it."  - 

*'  Where  did  you  find  it .?  " 

"  Down  by  the  hotel  last  night." 

*'Then  somebody  in  the  house  lost  it ;  you  must  tell 
the  landlord.  If  you  don't,  I  '11  tell  him  this  evening." 

"No,  no!  you  mustn't  do  that,"  cried  Jordie. 
"  Look !  I'll  let  you  see  it.  I'm  going  to  sell  it  to 
a  chambermaid  in  one  of  the  hotels ;  but  she  must 
give  me  at  least  four  francs,  and  I  will  give  you 
one,  or  perhaps  two,  and  no  one  shall  know  any- 
thing about  it." 

"  I  don't  want  it !  I  don't  want  it !  "  Moni  inter- 
rupted angrily;  "and  God  has  heard  every  word 
you  said." 


A  VISIT  29 


Jordie  looked  up  to  heaven.  "Too  far  away," 
he  said  doubtfully,  but  he  took  care  to  lower  his 
voice. 

"He'll  hear  you,  anyway,"  said  Moni  with 
assurance. 

Jordie  began  to  feel  uncomfortable.  He  must 
get  Moni  over  to  his  side  or  all  would  be  lost.  He 
thought  and  thought. 

"  Moni,"  he  said  suddenly,  "  I  will  promise  you 
something  that  will  please  you,  if  you  won't  tell 
any  one  about  what  I  found.  And  you  needn't 
take  any  of  the  money.;  then  you  won't  have  any- 
thing to  do  with  it.  If  you'll  promise,  then  I  will 
persuade  father  to  buy  little  Meggy,  so  that  she 
won't  be  killed.    Will  you  .?  " 

That  started  a  hard  struggle  in  Moni.  It  would 
be  sinful  to  conceal  the  finding  of  the  treasure. 
Jordie  had  opened  his  hand  ;  there  lay  a  cross  set 
with  many  jewels  that  sparkled  with  all  colors. 
Moni  saw  that  it  was  no  trifling  thing  that  would 
not  be  searched  after.  He  felt  that  if  he  did  not 
tell  it  would  be  the  same  as  though  he  himself  were 
keeping  something  that  did  not  belong  to  him.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  there  was  dear  little  Meggy; 
she  would  be  killed  —  horribly  butchered  with  a 
knife,  and  he  could  prevent  it  if  he  kept  silent. 
The  little  kid  was  at  that  moment  lying  trustfully 


30  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

beside  him,  as  though  she  knew  that  he  would  always 
protect  her.  No,  he  must  not  let  such  a  thing  hap- 
pen ;  he  must  do  something  to  save  her. 

''Then  I  will,  Jordie,"  he  said,  but  without  any 
enthusiasm. 

''  Your  hand  on  it !  "  and  Jordie  held  out  his  own 
hand,  for  thus  a  promise  was  made  inviolable. 

Jordie  was  very  glad  that  he  was  now  safe  with 
his  treasure ;  but  as  Moni  had  grown  so  quiet,  and 
as  he  had  a  longer  way  home  than  Moni,  he  thought 
it  best  to  start  on.  He  took  leave  of  Moni  and 
whistled  to  his  two  goats,  which  had  meanwhile 
joined  Moni's  grazing  flock,  —  not  without  various 
buttings  and  other  doubtful  encounters,  however ; 
for  the  goats  of  Fideris  had  never  heard  that  one 
must  be  polite  to  company,  and  the  goats  of  Kueblis 
did  not  know  that  when  one  is  on  a  visit  it  is  not 
proper  to  pick  out  the  best  feeding  for  oneself 
and  push  every  one  else  away  from  it.  When  Jordie 
was  halfway  down  the  mountain  Moni,  too,  set  out 
with  his  flock,  but  he  was  very  quiet  and  gave  forth 
not  a  note  of  song  or  whistle  all  the  way  home. 


CHAPTER   IV 


MONI    CANNOT   SING 


The  next  morning  Moni  came  to  the  hotel  as 
quiet  and  downcast  as  he  had  been  the  evening 
before.  He  came  silently,  took  away  the  land- 
lord's goats,  and  then  started  on  his  upward  jour- 
ney, without  ever  opening  his  lips  for  a  song  or 
a  yodel ;  he  hung  his  head  and  looked  as  though 
he  were  afraid  of  something.  Now  and  then  he  cast 
a  furtive  glance  around  to  see  if  some  one  was  not 
following  him. 

Moni  could  not  be  happy  any  more  ;  he  could 
hardly  tell  why.  He  felt  that  he  ought  to  be  glad 
because  he  had  saved  Httle  Meggy,  and  he  tried  to 
sing,  but  he  could  not.  The  sun  happened  to  be 
clouded  that  day ;  he  thought  that  when  the  sky 
cleared  he  would  feel  quite  different,  and  would  be 
happy  again.  When  he  got  up  on  the  mountain  it 
began  to  rain  hard.  Soon  the  rain  came  down  in 
torrents  and  he  took  refuge  under  the  Rain  Rock. 

31 


32  MONI   THE   GOAT  BOY 

The  goats,  too,  came  and  stood  under  the  rock. 
The  proud  black  one,  careful  of  her  fine  glossy  coat, 
had  crept  in  even  before  Moni.  She  now  lay  behind 
him,  looking  out  contentedly  from  her  comfortable 
comer  into  the  streaming  rain.  Meggy  stood  in  front 
of  her  protector  and  rubbed  her  head  affectionately 
against  his  knee,  then  looked  up  astonished  to  find 
that  he  did  not  say  a  word  to  her,  for  that  was  most 
extraordinary.  His  own  brown  goat,  too,  pawed  at 
his  feet  and  bleated,  for  he  had  not  spoken  to  her  all 
the  morning.  He  sat  there,  leaning  thoughtfully 
on  his  cane,  which  he  carried  in  rainy  weather  to 
keep  him  from  slipping  on  the  rocks,  for  on  such 
days  he  wore  shoes.  To-day,  as  he  sat  for  hours 
under  the  rock,  he  had  plenty  of  time  for  reflection. 

He  thought  over  what  he  had  promised  Jordie. 
It  seemed  as  though  Jordie  had  stolen  something 
and  he  had  done  the  same ;  for  was  not  Jordie 
going  to  give  him  something  for  it  ?  He  had  at 
any  rate  done  what  was  wrong,  and  God  was  dis- 
pleased with  him,  —  he  felt  that  in  his  heart.  He 
was  glad  that  it  was  dark  and  rainy,  and  that  he 
was  hidden  under  the  rock,  for  he  would  not  dare 
look  up  into  the  blue  sky  as  he  had  formerly.  He 
was  afraid  now  of  the  dear  God. 

Other  things,  too,  came  into  his  mind.  What  if 
Meggy  should  fall  over  a  steep  place  again,  and  he 


33 


34  MONI   THE  GOAT   BOY 

should  try  to  save  her,  and  God  would  no  longer 
help  him  ?  What  if  he  could  never  pray  to  him 
any  more,  or  have  any  hope  of  help  from  him  ? 
And  what  if  his  feet  should  slip  ?  Then  he  and 
Meggy  would  fall  down  on  the  jagged  rocks  and 
lie  there  all  torn  and  mangled. 

"  Oh,  no !  "  he  cried  in  his  troubled  heart ;  '*  this 
cannot  be."  He  must  make  his  peace  with  the  dear 
God,  so  that  he  could  pray  once  more  and  go  to 
him  with  all  his  troubles ;  then  he  could  be  happy 
again.  He  would  throw  off  the  weight  that  was 
upon  him ;  he  would  go  and  tell  the  landlord  every- 
thing. But  then  ?  Then  Jordie  would  not  per- 
suade his  father,  and  the  landlord  would  have  little 
Meggy  butchered.  Oh,  no,  no,  no  !  he  could  not 
endure  that ;  and  he  said  :  "  No,  I  will  not.  I  will 
say  nothing."  But  that  did  not  relieve  him;  the 
weight  on  his  heart  grew  heavier  and  heavier. 

So  the  whole  day  passed.  He  came  home  at 
night  as  silent  as  he  had  gone  forth  in  the  morn- 
ing ;  and  when  Paula,  waiting  at  the  hotel,  eagerly 
ran  out  to  him  and  asked  sympathetically :  "  Moni, 
what  is  the  matter.?  Why  don't  you  sing.-*"  he 
turned  away  embarrassed,  saying,  "Can't,"  and 
went  away  as  quickly  as  possible. 

In  their  room  upstairs  Paula  said  to  her  aunt  : 
"If  I  only  knew  what  is  wrong  with  the  goat  boy ! 


MONI   CANNOT   SING  35 

He  is  SO  changed  I  hardly  know  him.  If  he  would 
only  sing  again!  " 

"This  wretched  weather  probably  spoils  the 
boy's  humor,"  said  her  aunt. 

*'  Everything  seems  to  be  going  wrong.  Let  us 
go  home,  auntie,"  begged  Paula.  *'  Our  good  times 
are  over.  First  I  lose  my  beautiful  cross  and  there 
is  no  trace  of  it  anywhere ;  then  this  endless  rain 
sets  in;  and  now  there  is  not  even  the  jolly  goat 
boy  to  listen  to.    Let  us  go  home." 

"  But  we  must  finish  the  treatment  here.  There 
is  no  way  out  of  it,"  said  her  aunt. 

The  next  morning  was  again  dark  and  cloudy  and 
the  rain  poured  down  without  intermission.  Moni 
spent  the  day  as  he  had  the  one  before.  He  sat 
under  the  rocks,  his  thoughts  going  round  and 
round  in  the  same  circle.  Whenever  he  reached 
the  resolution,  "  Now  I  will  go  and  confess  the 
wrong,  so  that  I  can  look  up  to  God  once  more," 
he  saw  the  little  goat  under  the  butcher's  knife, 
and  the  whole  struggle  began  again  from  the 
beginning ;  so  that  he  was  quite  worn  out  when 
evening  came,  and  went  crawling  home  through 
the  drenching  rain  as  though  he  hardly  noticed  it. 

As  he  passed  the  hotel  the  landlord  called  to  him  : 
"  Can't  you  get  along  a  little  faster  .?  Look  how  wet 
they  are.    What 's  come  over  you,  anyway,  lately  ?  " 


36  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

Such  cross  words  had  never  been  addressed  to 
him  before  by  the  landlord.  On  the  contrary,  the 
latter  had  always  shown  special  friendliness  to  the 
boy;  but  now  he  was  irritated  by  Moni's  altered 
manner,  and  was  in  bad  humor  otherwise,  for 
Paula  had  told  him  about  her  missing  jewel,  which 
she  declared  could  have  been  lost  only  within  the 
hotel  or  directly  before  the  door,  for  she  had  left 
the  house  on  that  day  only  to  listen  to  the  goat 
boy's  song.  To  have  it  said  that  so  valuable  an 
article  could  be  lost  in  his  house,  and  not  be  re- 
turned, annoyed  the  landlord  extremely.  On  the 
previous  day  he  had  summoned  the  whole  staff  of 
servants,  had  examined  them,  threatened  them,  and 
had  finally  offered  a  reward  to  the  finder.  The 
whole  estabhshment  was  upset  by  the  occurrence. 

When  Moni  passed  the  front  of  the  hotel  Paula 
was  there  waiting  for  him,  wondering  why  he  had 
not  yet  found  his  song. 

**  Moni,  Moni !  "  she  called  ;  "are  you  really  the 
same  boy  who  used  to  come  by  here  singing  from 
morning  to  night,  — 

'  And  the  sky  is  so  blue 

I  am  wild  with  delight'?" 

Moni  heard  the  words  and  they  made  a  deep 
impression  on  him,  but  he  gave  no  answer.    He 


MONI   CANNOT  SING  57 

felt  that  it  had  indeed  been  different  when  he  went 
about  singing  all  day,  with  a  spirit  as  happy  as  his 
song.    Would  such  days  ever  come  again? 

The  next  morning  he  climbed  the  mountain  sad 
and  silent  as  the  day  before.  The  rain  had  stopped, 
but  a  heavy  mist  hung  over  the  mountains,  and  the 
sky  was  covered  with  dark  clouds.  Moni  sat  under  the 
rocks,  tortured  with  distressing  thoughts.  Toward 
noon  the  sky  began  to  clear.  It  grew  brighter  and 
brighter,  and  Moni  came  out  of  the  cave  and  looked 
about.  The  goats  were  gayly  skipping  about  once 
more,  the  little  kid  wantonly  capering  in  the  sunshine. 

Moni  stood  out  on  the  Pulpit  watching  the  sky 
and  the  mountains  as  they  came  out  brighter  and 
brighter.  When  the  clouds  parted  and  the  blue 
heavens  shone  forth,  it  seemed  to  Moni  as  though 
the  dear  God  were  looking  down  on  him  from 
heaven.  Suddenly  things  within  him  seemed  to 
grow  very  clear,  and  he  Jcnew  what  he  must  do. 
He  could  not  carry  the  wrong  about  in  his  heart  any 
longer  ;  he  felt  that  he  must  cast  it  off.  Then 
he  seized  the  frolicsome  little  kid,  took  it  in  his 
arms,  and  said  tenderly :  *^  O  my  Meggy,  my  poor 
little  Meggy  !  I  have  surely  done  what  I  could  ;  but 
it  was  sinful  and  bad.  Now  you  must  die.  Oh, 
oh  !  how  can  I  endure  it !  "  And  he  began  to  cry  so 
bitterly  that  he  could  say  no  more. 


38  MONI   THE  GOAT   BOY 

The  little  kid  uttered  a  sad  cry  and  crept  as  far 
under  his  arm  as  she  could,  as  though  to  hide  and 
be  safe  with  him.    He  lifted  her  to  his  shoulders. 

"  Come,  Meggy,"  he  said  ;  "  I  '11  carry  you  home 
once  more.  Perhaps  soon  I  shall  not  have  you  to 
carry." 

When  the  company  reached  the  hotel  Paula  was 
again  waiting.  Moni  left  the  little  kid  and  the  old 
black  mother  in  the  stable.  Then,  instead  of  going 
on  down,  he  came  to  the  house  and  was  about  to 
go  in,  when  the  Fraulein  stopped  him. 

"  Have  n't  you  found  your  song  yet,  Moni  ? 
Where  are  you  going  with  that  look  of  woe  ? ' ' 

"  I  have  something  to  report,"  answered  Moni, 
without  raising  his  eyes. 

''  To  report  ?    What  is  it  ?    Won't  you  tell  me  .?  " 

"  I  must  see  the  landlord.  Something  was 
found." 

"  Found  .^  What.?  I  lost  something, — a  beau- 
tiful cross." 

"That  is  it." 

"What  did  you  say.?"  cried  Paula,  in  greatest 
astonishment.    '*A  cross  with  sparkling  stones.?" 

**  Yes,  exactly." 

"Where  is  it,  Moni.?  Give  it  to  me.  Did  you 
find  it.?" 

"  No;  Jordie  of  Kueblis  did." 


MONI   CANNOT   SING  39 

Paula  wanted  to  know  who  Jordie  was  and  where 
he  lived,  and  was  about  to  send  some  one  down  to 
Kueblis  right  away  to  get  the  cross. 

"  I  will  go ;  and  if  he  still  has  the  cross,  I  will 
bring  it,"  said  Moni. 

*'  If  he  still  has  it !  "  cried  Paula.  *'  Why  should 
he  not  have  it  ?  and  how  do  you  know  all  about 
this,  Moni  ?  When  did  he  find  it,  and  how  did  you 
hear  about  it  ?  " 

Moni  stared  at  the  ground  ;  he  dared  not  tell 
how  it  had  all  happened  and  how  he  had  helped 
to  hide  the  discovery  until  he  had  been  forced  to 
speak. 

But  Paula  was  very  kind  to  him.  She  led  him 
aside,  sat  down  on  a  tree  stump  with  him,  and  said 
reassuringly  :  *'  Come,  tell  me  how  it  happened, 
Moni.     I  want  you  to  tell  me  all  about  it." 

So  Moni  took  courage  and  began.  He  told  the 
whole  story,  —  all  about  his  struggles  for  Meggy's 
sake  ;  how  he  had  grown  so  miserable  through  it 
all  and  dared  not  look  up  to  God;  and  how  he 
had  not  been  able  to  endure  it  longer  and  had 
resolved  to  tell. 

Then  Paula  gave  him  friendly  advice  and  said  he 
ought  to  have  come  at  once  and  reported,  but  it 
was  right  that  he  had  now  told  her  everything 
so  frankly,  and  he  would  not  regret  it.    She  said 


40  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

he  might  promise  Jordie  ten  francs  as  soon  as  she 
had  the  cross  in  her  possession  once  more. 

"  Ten  francs ! "  repeated  Moni  in  surprise,  re- 
membering how  Jordie  had  wanted  to  sell  it. 
Then  he  rose.  He  would  go  back  to  Kueblis  that 
very  night,  and  if  he  got  the  cross,  bring  it  back 
to-morrow  morning.  Then  he  ran  away,  realizing  as 
he  went  that  he  could  skip  and  jump  once  more,  and 
that  the  heavy  burden  was  no  longer  on  his  heart. 

On  reaching  home  he  merely  told  his  grand- 
mother that  he  had  an  errand  in  Kueblis,  and  at 
once  started  off.  He  found  Jordie  at  home  and 
told  him  what  he  had  done.  Jordie  was  quite  angry 
with  him  for  a  moment,  but  when  he  reflected 
that  further  concealment  was  now  impossible  he 
brought  out  the  cross,  asking,  **  What  is  she  going 
to  give  me  for  it  .^  " 

Moni  was  ready  with  his  answer :  "  Ten  francs. 
You  see  honest  dealing  would  have  paid  you  best, 
for  with  your  dishonesty  you  expected  to  get  only 
four  francs ;  but  you  will  get  your  money." 

Jordie  was  surprised,  and  regretted  that  he  had 
not  gone  to  the  hotel  at  once  with  the  cross,  and  so 
come  off  with  a  clear  conscience,  which  he  certainly 
had  not  now.  Things  might  have  been  quite  differ- 
ent, but  it  was  too  late.  He  gave  the  cross  to  Moni, 
who  hurried  home,  as  it  had  grown  quite  dark. 


_£X.X 


v>  ^^ 


CHAPTER  V 
MONI    SINGS   ONCE   MORE 

Paula  had  left  orders  that  she  should  be  called 
early  in  the  morning.  She  wanted  to  be  on  hand 
when  the  goat  boy  came,  and  settle  with  him  her- 
self. The  previous  evening  she  had  had  a  long 
interview  with  the  landlord,  coming  away  from  his 
room  with  a  look  of  satisfaction,  as  though  she  had 
made  some  pleasant  arrangement  with  him. 

When  Moni  came  up  with  his  herd  in  the  morn- 
ing Paula  called  to  him,  **Moni,  can't  you  sing 
even  now  ? " 

He  shook  his  head.  "I  can't.  I  keep  thinking 
of  poor  little  Meggy  and  how  many  days  longer 
she  will  be  with  me.  I  '11  never  sing  again  as  long 
as  I  live  ;  but  here  is  the  cross."  With  that  he 
gave  her  the  parcel,  which  his  grandmother  had 
carefully  done  up  for  him  in  many  wrappings. 

Paula  took  the  jewel  from  its  coverings  and 
examined  it  closely ;  it  was  really  her  precious 
cross  of  sparkling  stones,  perfectly  unharmed. 

41 


42  MONI   THE   GOAT  BOY 

''  Well,  Moni,  you  have  made  me  very  happy. 
Without  you  I  should  probably  never  have  seen  my 
cross  again.  So  I  want  to  make  you  happy,  too.  Go 
and  get  little  Meggy;  she  belongs  to  you  now." 

Moni  stared  at  the  Fraulein  as  though  he  could  not 
comprehend  her  words.  At  length  he  stammered, 
'*  But  how  —  how  can  Meggy  belong  to  me  .-* " 

"How.?"  said  Paula,  smiling.  "Last  night  I 
bought  her  from  the  landlord,  and  to-day  I  give 
her  to  you.    Can  you  sing  now .?  " 

"  Oh !  oh  !  oh !  "  cried  Moni,  running  to  the 
stable  like  mad.  He  took  the  little  goat  and  held 
her  close  in  his  arms.  Then  he  came  running 
back  and  held  out  his  hand  to  the  Fraulein,  saying 
over  and  over  again,  "  I  thank  you  a  thousand, . 
thousand  times !  God  reward  you  for  it !  If  I 
could  only  do  something  for  you  !  " 

"  Then  sing  your  song  and  let  us  hear  whether 
it  has  the  old  ring,"  said  Paula. 

So  Moni  lifted  up  his  voice,  and  as  he  climbed 
the  mountain  his  joyous  notes  rang  out  so  clearly 
through  the  valley  that  every  one  in  the  hotel 
noticed  it,  and  many  a  sleeper  turned  on  his  pillow, 
saying,  "Good!  the  goat  boy  has  sunshine  once 
more." 

They  were  all  glad  to  hear  him  sing  again,  for 
they  liked  the  early  notes,  which   were  to   some 


MONI   SINGS   ONCE   MORE  43 

a  sign  for  rising,  to  others  leave  for  another  nap. 
When  Moni  looked  down  from  the  first  ledge  and 
saw  the  Fraulein  still  standing  before  the  hotel,  he 
stepped  forward  and  sang  as  loudly  as  he  could  : 

"  And  the  sky  is  so  blue 

I  am  wild  with  delight." 

Nothing  but  sounds  of  joy  came  from  his  lips  all 
day,  and  the  goats,  too,  seemed  to  feel  that  it  was 
a  day  of  gladness,  and  skipped  and  capered  about  as 
never  before.  The  sun  was  so  bright,  the  sky  so 
blue,  and  after  the  heavy  rains  the  grasses  so  green 
and  the  flowers  so  gay,  that  Moni  thought  he  had 
never  seen  the  world  so  beautiful.  He  kept  his  little 
kid  beside  him  all  day,  plucked  the  best  herbs  for  it, 
and  fed  it  from  his  hand,  saying  again  and  again  : 
"  Meggy,  dear  little  Meggy,  you  are  not  going  to 
be  killed.  You  are  mine  now,  and  will  come  up  the 
mountain  with  me  as  long  as  we  both  live." 

With  happy  song  and  yodel  Moni  returned  in 
the  evening,  and  after  he  had  led  the  black  goat 
to  her  stable  he  took  the  little  one  on  his  arm; 
she  was  henceforth  to  go  home  with  him.  Meggy 
seemed  very  well  satisfied,  and  cuddled  up  to  him 
as  though  she  felt  herself  in  the  best  of  care  ;  for 
he  had  always  treated  her  more  tenderly  than  her 
own  mother  had. 


44  MONI   THE  GOAT  BOY 

When  Moni  came  home  with  the  little  one  on  his 
shoulder  his  grandmother  hardly  knew  what  to  make 
of  him.  His  calling  out, "  It  is  mine,  grandmother ;  it 
is  mine ! "  explained  nothing  to  her.  But  Moni  could 
not  stop  to  explain  until  he  had  run  to  the  stable  and 
made  a  good  bed  for  Meggy  close  beside  their  own 
goat,  so  that  the  little  one  would  not  be  lonely. 

"There,  Meggy;  now  sleep  well  in  your  new 
home.  You  shall  always  have  a  good  bed.  I  will 
make  it  fresh  for  you  every  day." 

Then  Moni  ran  in  to  the  wondering  grand- 
mother, and  while  they  sat  at  supper  he  told  her 
the  whole  story,  —  of  his  three  sad,  troubled  days 
and  the  happy  ending  of  it  all.  His  grandmother 
listened  attentively,  and- when  he  had  finished  she 
said  earnestly:  **Moni,  this  experience  you  must 
always  remember.  Had  you  done  right  in  the  first 
place,  trusting  in  the  good  God,  then  everything 
would  have  gone  well.  Now  God  has  helped  you 
so  much  more  than  you  deserve  that  you  must  not 
forget  it  as  long  as  you  live."  And  Moni  was  very 
sure  that  he  would  not  forget. 

Before  he  went  to  sleep  he  had  to  go  to  the 
stable  once  more  to  make  sure  that  the  little  kid 
really  belonged  to  him  and  was  there  in  its  bed. 

Jordie  got  his  ten  francs,  as  promised,  but  that 
did  not  end  the  matter  for  him.    When  he  went  to 


45 


46 


MONI   THE   GOAT   BOY 


the  hotel  he  was  taken  before  the  landlord,  who 
gave  him  a  severe  lecture.  But  that  did  not  end 
the  matter.  The  worst  of  it  all  was  that  whenever 
anything  was  missed  after  that,  it  was  Jordie  who 
was  immediately  suspected  of  having  stolen  it.  He 
had  no  more  peace,  for  he  was  continually  in  dread 
of  being  punished  for  something  that  he  had  never 
done. 

Moni's  Httle  goat  throve  and  grew  strong,  and 
the  boy  continued  to  sing  all  summer.  But  often 
when  he  was  comfortably  stretched  out  on  the 
Pulpit,  he  thought  of  the  troubled  days  under  the 
Rain  Rock,  and  he  said  to  himself,  '*  It  must  never 
happen  so  again." 

But  when  he  was  too  long  absorbed  in  such 
reflections  one  or  another  of  the  goats  would  come 
and  rouse  him  with  a  questioning  bleat. 


WITHOUT   A    FRIEND 


=^--- ;<^    '-'!:::  X, 


-vi^ 


WITHOUT   A   FRIEND 

CHAPTER   I 

HE   IS   GOOD   FOR   NOTHING 

The  traveler  who  ascends  Mt.  SeeHs  from  the 
rear  will  presently  find  himself  coming  out  upon 
a  spot  where  a  green  meadow,  fresh  and  vivid,  is 
spread  out  upon  the  mountain  side.  The  place 
is  so  inviting  that  one  feels  tempted  to  join  the 
peacefully  grazing  cows  and  fall  to  eating  the  soft 
green  grass  with  them.  The  clean,  well-fed  cattle 
wander  about  with  pleasant  musical  accompani- 
ment ;  for  each  cow  wears'^a  bell,  so  that  one  may 
tell  by  the  sound  whether  any  of  them  are  stray- 
ing too  far  out  toward  the  edge,  where  the  preci- 
pice is  hidden  by  bushes  and  where  a  single  misstep 
would  be  fatal.  There  is  a  company  of  boys,  to  be 
sure,  to  watch  the  cows,  but  the  bells  are  also  neces- 
sary, and  their  tinkling  is  so  pleasant  to  hear  that 
it  would  be  a  pity  not  to  have  them. 

49 


50  WITHOUT   A  FRIEND 

Little  wooden  houses  dot  the  mountain  side,  and 
here  and  there  a  turbulent  stream  comes  tumbling 
down  the  slope.  Not  one  of  the  cottages  stands  on 
level  ground ;  it  seems  as  though  they  had  some- 
how been  thrown  against  the  mountain  and  had 
stuck  there,  for  it  would  be  hard  to  conceive  of 
their  being  built  on  this  steep  slope.  From  the 
highway  below  you  might  think  them  all  equally 
neat  and  cheery,  with  their  open  galleries  and  little 
wooden  stairways,  but  when  you  came  nearer  to 
them  you  would  notice  that  they  differed  very 
much  in  character. 

The  two  first  ones  were  not  at  all  alike.  Although 
the  distance  between  them  was  not  very  great,  yet 
they  stood  quite  apart,  fof  the  largest  stream  of  the 
neighborhood,  Clear  Brook,  as  it  is  called,  rushed 
down  between  them.  In  the  first  cottage  all  the 
little  windows  were  kept  tightly  closed  even  through 
the  finest  summer  days,  and  no  fresh  air  was  ever  let 
in  except  through  the  broken  windowpanes,  and 
that  was  little  enough,  for  the  holes  had  been 
pasted  over  with  paper  to  keep  out  the  winter's 
cold.  The  steps  of  the  outside  stairway  were  in 
many  places  broken  away,  and  the  gallery  was  in 
such  a  ruinous  state  that  it  seemed  as  though  the 
many  little  children  crawling  and  stumbling  about 
on  it  must  surely  break  their  arms  or  legs.    But 


HE  IS  GOOD   FOR  NOTHING  51 

they  all  were  sound  enough  in  body  though  very 
dirty;  their  faces  were  covered  with  grime  and 
their  hair  had  never  been  touched  by  a  comb. 
Four  of  these  little  urchins  scrambled  about  here 
through  the  day,  and  at  evening  they  were  joined 
by  four  older  ones,  —  three  sturdy  boys  and  a  girl, 
—  who  were  at  work  during  the  day.  These,  too, 
were  none  too  clean,  but  they  looked  a  little  better 
than  the  younger  ones,  for  they  could  at  least  wash 
themselves. 

The  little  house  across  the  stream  had  quite  a 
different  air.  Even  before  you  reached  the  steps, 
everything  looked  so  clean  and  tidy  that  you  thought 
the  very  ground  must  be  different  from  that  across 
the  stream.  The  steps  always  looked  as  though 
they  had  just  been  scrubbed,  and  on  the  gallery 
there  were  three  pots  of  blooming  pinks  that  wafted 
fragrance  through  the  windows  all  summer  long. 
One  of  the  bright  little  windows  stood  open  to  let 
in  the  fresh  mountain  air,  and  within  the  room  a 
woman  might  be  seen,  still  strong  and  active  in 
spite  of  the  snowy  white  hair  under  her  neat  black 
cap.  She  was  often  at  work  mending  a  man's  shirt, 
that  was  stout  and  coarse  in  material  but  was 
always  washed  with  great  care. 

The  woman  herself  looked  so  trim  and  neat  in 
her  simple  dress  that  one  fancied  she  had  never 


52  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

in  her  life  touched  anything  unclean.  It  was  Frau 
Vincenze,  mother  of  the  young  herdsman  Franz 
Martin,  he  of  the  smiling  face  and  strong  arm. 
Franz  Martin  lived  in  his  little  hut  on  the  moun- 
tain all  summer  making  cheese,  and  returned  to  his 
mother's  cottage  only  in  the  late  fall,  to  spend  the 
winter  with  her  and  make  butter  in  the  lower  dairy 
hut  near  by. 

As  there  was  no  bridge  across  the  wild  stream, 
the  two  cottages  were  quite  separated,  and  there 
were  other  people  much  farther  away  whom  Frau 
Vincenze  knew  better  than  these  neighbors  right 
across  the  brook;  for  she  seldom  looked  over  at 
them,  —  the  sight  was  not  agreeable  to  her.  She 
would  shake  her  head  disapprovingly  when  she  saw 
the  black  faces  and  dirty  rags  on  the  children,  while 
the  stream  of  fresh,  clean  water  ran  so  near  their 
door.  She  preferred,  when  the  t\yilight  rest  hour 
came,  to  enjoy  her  red  carnations  on  the  gallery, 
or  to  look  down  over  the  green  slope  that  stretched 
from  her  cottage  to  the  valley  below. 

The  neglected  children  across  the  stream  be- 
longed to  *'  Poor  Grass  Joe,"  as  he  was  called,  who 
was  usually  employed  away  from  home  in  haying, 
or  chopping  wood,  or  carrying  burdens  up  the 
mountain.  The  wife  had  much  to  do  at  home,  to 
be  sure,  but  she  seemed  to  take  it  for  granted  that 


HE   IS   GOOD   FOR  NOTHING  53 

so  many  children  could  not  possibly  be  kept  in 
order,  and  that  in  time,  when  the  children  grew 
older,  things  would  mend  of  their  own  accord.  So 
she  let  everything  go  as  it  would,  and  in  the  fresh, 
pure  air  the  children  remained  healthy  and  were 
happy  enough  scrambling  around  on  the  steps  and 
on  the  ground. 

In  the  summer  time  the  four  older  ones  were  out 
all  day  herding  cows ;  for  here  in  the  lower  pasture 
the  whole  herd  of  cows  was  not  left  to  graze  under 
one  or  two  boys,  as  on  the  high  Alps,  but  each 
farmer  had  to  hire  his  own  herd  boy  to  look  after 
his  cows.  This  made  jolly  times  for  the  boys  and 
girls,  who  spent  the  long  days  together  playing 
pranks  and  making  merry  in  the  broad  green  fields. 
Sometimes  Joe's  children  were  hired  for  potato 
weeding  farther  down  the  valley,  or  for  other  light 
field  work.  Thus  they  earned  their  living  through 
the  summer  and  brought  home  many  a  penny 
besides,  which  their  mother  could  turn  to  good 
account ;  for  there  were  always  the  four  little 
mouths  to  be  fed  and  clothes  to  be  got  for  all  the 
children.  However  simple  these  clothes  might  be, 
each  child  must  have  at  least  a  little  shirt,  and  the 
older  ones  one  other  garment  besides.  The  fam- 
ily was  too  poor  to  possess  even  a  cow,  though 
there  was  scarcely  a  farmer  in  the  neighborhood 


54  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

who  did  not  own  one,  however  small  his  piece  of 
land  might  be. 

Poor  Grass  Joe  had  got  his  name  from  the 
fact  that  the  spears  of  grass  on  his  land  were  so 
scarce  that  they  would  not  support  so  much  as  a 
cow.  He  had  only  a  goat  and  a  potato  field.  With 
these  small  resources  the  wife  had  to  struggle 
through  the  summer  and  provide  for  the  four  little 
ones,  and  sometimes,  when  work  was  scarce,  for  one 
or  two  of  the  older  ones  also.  The  father  occa- 
sionally came  home  in  the  winter,  but  he  brought 
very  little  to  his  family,  for  his  house  and  land 
were  so  heavily  mortgaged  that  he  was  never  out 
of  debt  throughout  the  whole  year.  Whenever  he 
had  earned  a  little  money,  some  one  whom  he  owed 
would  come  and  take  it  all  away. 

So  the  wife  had  a  hard  time  to  get  along,  — all  the 
more  so  because  she  had  no  order  in  her  house- 
keeping and  was  not  skillful  in  any  kind  of  work. 
She  would  often  go  out  and  stand  on  the  tumble- 
down gallery,  where  the  boards  were  lying  loose 
and  ready  to  drop  off,  and  instead  of  taking  a  ham- 
mer and  fastening  them  down  would  look  across 
the  stream  at  the  neat  little  cottage  with  the  bright 
windows,  and  would  say  fretfully,  "Yes,  it 's  all  very 
well  for  her  to  clean  and  scrub,  —  she  has  nothing 
else  to  do;  but  with  me  it's  quite  different." 


HE   IS  GOOD   FOR  NOTHING  55 


Then  she  would  turn  back  angrily  into  the  close, 
dingy  room  and  vent  her  anger  on  the  first  person 
who  crossed  her  path.  This  usually  happened  to 
be  a  boy  of  ten  or  eleven  years,  who  was  not  her 
own  child,  but  who  had  lived  in  her  house  ever 
since  he  was  a  baby.  This  little  fellow,  known  only 
by  the  name  of  "  Stupid  Rudi,"  was  so  lean  and 
gaunt  looking  that  one  would  have  taken  him  to  be 
scarcely  eight  years  old.  His  timid,  shrinking  man- 
ner made  it  difficult  to  tell  what  kind  of  a  looking 
boy  he  really  was,  for  he  never  took  his  eyes  from 
the  ground  when  any  one  spoke  to  him. 

Rudi  had  never  known  a  mother ;  she  had  died 
when  he  was  hardly  two  years  old,  and  shortly 
afterward  his  father  had  met  with  an  accident  when 
returning  from  the  mountain  one  evening.  He  had 
been  wild  haying,  and,  seeking  to  reach  home  by 
a  short  cut,  had  lost  his  footing  and  fallen  over  a 
precipice.  The  fall  lamed  him,  and  after  that  he 
was  not  fit  for  any  other  work  but  braiding  mats, 
which  he  sold  in  the  big  hotel  on  Mt.  Seelis.  Lit- 
tle Rudi  never  saw  his  father  otherwise  than  sit- 
ting on  a  low  stool  with  a  straw  mat  on  his  knees. 
"  Lame  Rudolph"  was  the  name  the  man  went  by. 
Now  he  had  been  dead  six  years.  After  his  wife's 
death  he  had  rented  a  little  corner  in  Joe's  house 
for  himself  and  boy  to  sleep  in,  and  the  little  fellow 


56  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

had  remained  there  ever  since.  The  few  pennies 
paid  by  the  community  for  Rudi's  support  were 
very  acceptable  to  Joe's  wife,  and  the  extra  space 
in  his  bedroom,  after  the  father's  death,  was  eagerly 
seized  for  two  of  her  own  boys,  who  had  scarcely 
had  sleeping  room  for  some  time. 

Rudi  had  been  by  nature  a  shy,  quiet  little  fel- 
low. The  father,  after  the  loss  of  his  wife  and  the 
added  misfortune  of  being  crippled,  lost  all  spirit; 
little  as  he  had  been  given  to  talking  before  his 
misfortune,  he  was  even  more  silent  afterward. 

So  little  Rudi  would  sit  beside  his  father  for 
whole  days  without  hearing  a  word  spoken,  and 
did  not  himself  learn  to  speak  for  a  long  time. 
After  his  father  died  and  he  belonged  altogether 
to  Joe's  household,  he  hardly  ever  spoke  at  all. 
He  was  scolded  and  pushed  about  by  everybody, 
but  he  never  thought  of  resisting;  it  was  not  in 
his  nature  to  fight.  The  children  did  what  they 
pleased,  to  him,  and  besides  their  abuse  he  had  to 
bear  the  woman's  scoldings,  especially  when  she 
was  in  a  bad  temper  about  the  neat  little  house 
across  the  stream.  But  Rudi  did  not  rebel,  for  he 
had  the  feeling  that  the  whole  world  was  against 
him,  so  what  good  would  it  do  ?  With  all  this  the 
boy  in  time  grew  so  shy  that  it  seemed  as  though 
he  hardly  noticed  what  was  going  on  about  him. 


57 


58  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

and  he  usually  gave  no  answer  when  any  one  spoke 
to  him.  He  seemed,  in  fact,  to  be  always  looking 
for  some  hole  that  he  might  crawl  into,  where  he 
would  never  be  found  again. 

So  it  had  come  about  that  the  older  children, 
Jopp,  Hans,  Uli,  and  the  girl  Lisi,  often  said  to 
him,  **  What  a  stupid  Rudi  you  are  !  "  and  the  four 
little  ones  began  saying  it  as  soon  as  they  could 
talk.  As  Rudi  never  tried  to  deny  it,  all  the  peo- 
ple in  time  assumed  that  it  must  be  so,  and  he  was 
known  throughout  the  neighborhood  simply  as  "  Stu- 
pid Rudi."  And  it  really  seemed  as  though  the  boy 
could  not  attend  to  anything  properly  as  the  other 
children  did.  If  he  was  sent  along  with  the  other 
boys  to  herd  cows,  he  would  immediately  hunt  up  a 
hedge  or  a  bush  and  hide  behind  it.  There  he  would 
sit  trembling  with  fear,  for  he  could  hear  the  other 
boys  hunting  him  and  calling  to  him  to  come  and 
join  their  game.  The  games  always  ended  with 
a  great  deal  of  thumping  and  thrashing,  of  which 
Rudi  invariably  got  the  worst,  because  he  would 
not  defend  himself,  and,  in  fact,  could  not  defend 
himself  against  the  many  stronger  boys.  So  he 
crept  away  and  hid  as  quickly  as  he  could;  mean- 
while his  cows  wandered  where  they  pleased  and 
grazed  on  the  neighbors'  fields.  This  was  sure  to 
make  trouble,  and  all  agreed  that  Rudi  was  too 


HE   IS  GOOD   FOR  NOTHING  59 

stupid  even  to  herd  cows,  and  no  one  would  engage 
him  any  more.  In  the  field  work  there  was  the 
same  trouble.  When  the  boys  were  hired  to  weed 
potatoes  they  thought  it  great  fun  to  pelt  each 
other  with  bunches  of  potato  blossoms,  —  it  made 
the  time  pass  more  quickly,  —  and  of  course  each 
one  paid  back  generously  what  he  got.  Rudi  alone 
gave  back  nothing,  but  looked  about  anxiously  in 
all  directions  to  see  who  had  hit  him.  That  was 
exactly  what  amused  the  other  boys ;  and  so,  amid 
shouts  and  laughter,  he  was  pelted  from  all  sides, — 
on  his  head,  his  back,  or  wherever  the  balls  might 
strike.  But  while  the  others  had  time  to  work  in 
the  intervals,  Rudi  did  nothing  but  dodge  and  hide 
behind  the  potato  bushes.  So  at  this  work  he  was 
a  failure,  too,  and  young  and  old  agreed  that  Rudi 
was  too  stupid  for  any  kind  of  work,  and  that  Rudi 
would  never  amount  to  anything.  As  he  could  earn 
nothing  and  would  never  amount  to  anything,  he 
was  treated  accordingly  by  Joe's  wife.  Her  own 
four  little  ones  had  hardly  enough  to  eat,  and  so  it 
usually  happened  that  for  Rudi  there  was  nothing 
at  all  and  he  was  told,  *<  You  can  find  something; 
you  are  old  enough." 

How  he  really  existed  no  one  knew,  not  even  Joe's 
wife ;  yet  he  had  always  managed  somehow.  He 
never  begged ;  he  would  not  do  that ;  but  many 


6o 


WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 


a  good  woman  would  hand  out  a  piece  of  bread 
or  a  potato  to  the  poor,  starved  httle  fellow  as  he 
went  stealing  by  her  door,  not  venturing  to  look 
up,  much  less  to  ask  for  anything.  He  had  never 
in  his  life  had- enough  to  eat,  but  still  that  was  not 
so  hard  for  him  as  the  persecution  and  derision  he 
had  to  take  from  the  other  boys.  As  he  grew  older 
he  became  more  and  more  sensitive  to  their  ridicule, 
and  his  main  thought  at  all  times  was  to  escape 
notice  as  much  as  possible.  As  he  was  never  seen 
to  take  any  part  with  the  other  children  in  work  or 
play,  people  took  it  for  granted  that  he  was  inca- 
pable of  doing  what  the  others  did,  and  they  de- 
clared that  he  was  growing  more  stupid  from  day 
to  day. 


-mz 


CHAPTER   II 

IN   THE   UPPER    PASTURE 

On  a  pleasant  summer  afternoon  when  the  flies 
were  dancing  gayly  in  the  sun,  all  the  boys  and  girls 
of  the  Hillside  were  running  about  so  excitedly  that 
it  was  evident  there  was  something  particular  on 
hand  for  that  day.  Jopp,  the  oldest  one  of  them 
all,  was  leader  of  the  assembly,  and  when  all  the 
company  had  come  together  he  announced  that  they 
would  now  go  to  the  dairy  hut  in  the  upper  pasture, 
for  this  was  the  day  for  a  "  cheese  party."  But 
first  of  all  they  must  decide  who  was  to  stay  below 
and  watch  the  cows  while  the  others  went  to  the 
party.  That  was,  of  course,  a  difficult  question,  for 
no  one  was  inclined  to  sacrifice  himself  for  the  sake 
of  the  others  and  stay  behind.  Uli  suggested  that 
they  might  for  once  make  Rudi  take  care  of  the 
cows,  and  in  order  to  keep  him  mindful  of  his  duties 

6r 


62  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

they  had  best  thrash  him  beforehand.  His  sugges- 
tion met  with  approval,  and  some  of  the  leaders 
were  already  starting  off  to  find  the  victim,  when 
Lisi's  voice  was  heard  shrilly  screaming  above  the 
others  :  **  I  think  Uli's  notion  is  a  very  stupid  one, 
for  we  '11  all  have  to  pay  for  it  when  we  come  home 
and  find  the  cows  strayed  off.  You  don't  suppose 
that  if  Rudi  is  too  stupid  to  watch  two  cows  he 
would  suddenly  be  smart  enough  to  take  care  of 
twenty !  We  must  draw  lots  and  three  of  us  must 
stay  here  with  the  cows.    That 's  the  only  way." 

Lisi's  argument  was  convincing.  The  company 
took  her  advice,  and  three  of  the  number  were 
sentenced  to  stay  behind,  UU  himself  being  one  of 
those  upon  whom  the  unhappy  lot  fell.  Mumbling 
and  grumbling  he  turned  his  back  upon  the  ex- 
ultant throng  and  sat  down  upon  the  ground, — 
the  other  two  beside  him, — while  the  rest,  with 
shouts  and  laughter,  went  scampering  up  the  moun- 
tain, wild  with  expectation. 

The  boys  were  always  notified  by  Franz  Martin 
of  the  coming  of  cheese  day,  and  they,  in  turn, 
never  failed  to  remind  him  if  they  thought  he  might 
forget,  for  it  was  a  gala  occasion  to  them.  It  was 
the  day  when  Franz  Martin  trimmed  his  fresh 
cheeses,  after  these  had  been  pressed,  a  soft  mass, 
into  the  round  wooden  forms.    When  the  weight 


IN   THE   UPPER   PASTURE  63 

was  laid  upon  it  some  of  the  cheesy  mass  would  be 
pressed  out  from  the  edge  of  the  mold  in  the  form 
of  a  long,  snow-white  sausage.  This  was  trimmed 
off,  broken  into  pieces,  and  distributed  among  the 
children  by  the  good-natured  dairyman.  The  festi- 
val of  cheese  distribution  occurred  every  two  weeks 
throughout  the  summer  and  was  hailed  each  time 
with  loud  expressions  of  joy. 

While  the  children  were  settling  their  plans  Rudi 
had  been  hiding  behind  a  big  thistle  bush.  He  kept 
very  quiet  and  did  not  move  until  he  heard  the  whole 
company  racing  up  the  mountain ;  then  he  looked 
out  very  cautiously.  The  three  who  had  been  black- 
balled sat  sulking  on  the  ground  with  their  backs 
toward  him.  The  others  were  some  distance  up 
the  mountain  ;  their  shouting  and  yodelihg  rang  out 
merrily  from  above.  Rudi,  hearing  their  shouts, 
was  suddenly  seized  with  an  overwhelming  desire 
to  join  the  cheese  party.  He  stole  out  from  behind 
the  bush,  cast  a  swift  glance  over  toward  the  three 
grumblers,  and  then,  softly  and  lightly  as  a  weasel, 
slipped  up  the  mountain  side. 

After  scrambling  up  the  last  steep  ascent  he 
came  upon  a  little  fresh  green  plateau,  and  there 
stood  the  dairy  hut ;  close  beside  it  Clear  Brook 
went  tumbling  down  the  slope.  In  the  door  of  his 
hut  stood  Franz  Martin  with  round,  smiling  face, 


64  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

laughing  at  the  strange  capers  that  the  boys  and 
girls  were  making  in  their  efforts  to  get  to  the 
feast.  They  had  all  reached  the  hut  and  were 
pushing  one  another  forward  in  order  to  be  as 
close  as  possible  when  the  distribution  should 
begin. 

*' Gently,  gently,"  laughed  Franz  Martin;  "if 
you  all  crowd  into  the  hut,  I  shall  have  no  room  to 
cut  the  cheese,  and  that  will  be  your  loss." 

Then  he  took  a  stout  knife  and  went  to  the 
great  round  cheese  that  he  had  ready  on  the  table. 
He  trimmed  it  off  quickly  and  came  out  with  a  long, 
snow-white  roll,  and,  breaking  off  pieces  from  it, 
passed  them  about  here  and  there,  sometimes  over 
the  heads  of  the  taller  ones  to  the  little  fellows 
who  could  *  not  push  forward,  —  for  Franz  Martin 
wanted  to  be  just  and  fair  in  his  distribution. 

Rudi  had  been  standing  in  the  outermost  row, 
and  when  he  tried  to  push  forward  he  got  a  thump 
now  on  one  side  and  now  on  the  other.  So  he  ran 
from  side  to  side;  but  Franz  Martin  did  not  see 
him  at  all,  because  some  bigger,  stouter  boy  always 
crowded  in  ahead  of  him.  Finally  he  got  such  a 
fierce  blow  from  big,  burly  Jopp  that  he  was  flung 
far  off  to  one  side,  almost  turning  a  somersault  be- 
fore he  got  his  footing.  He  saw  that  the  distribu- 
tion was  almost  at  an  end  and  that  he  was  not  to 


IN   THE  UPPER  PASTURE  65 

get  even  a  tiny  bit  of  cheese  roll,  so  he  did  not  pro- 
pose to  get  any  more  thumps.  He  went  off  by 
himself  down  the  slope,  where  some  young  fir  trees 
stood,  and  sat  down  under  them.  On  the  tallest  of 
these  trees  a  little  bird  was  whistling  forth  gayly  into 
the  bright  heavens,  as  though  there  were  nothing 
else  in  the  world  but  blue  skies  and  sunshine. 

Rudi,  listening  to  the  glad  song,  almost  forgot 
his  troubles  of  a  moment  ago;  but  he  could  not 
help  looking  over  occasionally  to  the  hut,  where 
the  shouting  and  laughter  continued  as  the  chil- 
dren chased  each  other  about,  trying  to  snatch 
pieces  of  cheese  from  each  other.  When  Rudi  saw 
them  biting  off  delicious  mouthfuls  of  the  snowy 
mass,  he  would  sigh  and  say  to  himself,  ''Oh,  if  I 
could  only  have  a  Httle  taste !  "  for  he  had  never 
had  a  single  bite  of  cheese  roll;  never  before  had 
he  even  ventured  so  far  as  to  join  a  party.  But  it 
availed  him  nothing,  even  if  he  summoned  forth  all 
his  courage,  as  he  had  to-day,  and  so  he  came  to  the 
melancholy  conclusion  that  he  would  never  in  his 
life  get  a  taste  of  cheese  roll.  The  thought  was  so 
disheartening  to  him  that  he  no  longer  heard  the 
song  of  the  little  bird,  but  sat  under  the  bushes 
quite  hopeless. 

Now  the  feast  at  the  hut  was  ended  and  the 
revelers  came  down  the  slope  with  a  rush,  each 


66  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

one  trying  to  get  ahead  of  the  others,  their  eager- 
ness leading  to  many  a  roll  and  tumble  down  the 
steep  places.  As  Hans  went  shouting  past  the 
group  of  fir  trees  he  discovered  Rudi  half  hidden 
under  them. 

'*  Come  out  of  there,  old  mole  !  You  must  play 
with  us ! "  he  shouted ;  and  Rudi  understood  what 
he  was  expected  to  *'play  "  with  them. 

He  was  to  stand  as  block,  so » that  the  others 
might  jump  over  him.  He  was  usually  knocked 
over  at  every  jump,  and  he  would  much  rather 
have  stayed  in  his  little  retreat;  but  he  knew  what 
was  in  store  for  him  if  he  did  not  follow  their  com- 
mands, so  he  came  out  obediently. 

''How  much  cheese  roll  did  you  get.?"  Hans 
yelled  at  him. 

''None,"  answered  Rudi. 

"What  a  simpleton!"  yelled  Hans  still  louder. 
"  He  comes  up  here  expressly  to  get  cheese  roll, 
and  then  he  goes  away  without  any !  " 

"  You  stupid  Rudi !  "  they  shouted  at  him  from 
all  sides,  and  the  big  boys  began  jumping  over  him, 
so  that  he  had  hard  work  getting  on  his  feet  as  fast 
as  they  knocked  him  over.  Sometimes  he  would 
roll  down  the  hill  with  a  whole  clump  of  them,  and 
they  would  all  continue  rolling  until  some,  chance 
obstacle  brought  them   to  their  feet  once  more. 


IN  THE  UPPER   PASTURE  6/ 

After  their  boisterous  descent  they  all  ran  in  dif- 
ferent directions,  each  one  to  seek  his  own  cows. 
Rudi  ran  off  by  himself,  far  away  from  them  all, 
for  now  he  expected  even  worse  treatment  from 
the  three  unfortunates,  because  he  had  deserted 
them.  He  slipped  down  the  hill  to  the  swamp  hole, 
and  crouched  down  so  that  he  could  not  be  seen 
from  above  or  below. 

The  swamp  hole  was  a  hollow  where  water  gath- 
ered in  spring  and  fall  and  made  the  ground  swampy. 
Now  it  was  quite  dry,  —  a  pleasant  spot,  where 
fine,  dark  red  strawberries  ripened  in  the  warm  sun 
that  beat  against  the  side  of  the  hollow.  But  Rudi 
trembled  as  long  as  he  was  in  the  neighborhood  of 
houses  and  herd  boys,  for  the  latter  might  discover 
him  at  any  moment  and  renew  their  persecutions 
He  sat  there  trembling  at  every  sound,  for  he  kept 
thinking,  "Now  they  are  coming  after  me."  Sud^ 
denly  he  was  filled  with  a  delightful  memory  of  the 
little  nook  under  the  fir  trees  and  of  the  whistling 
bird  overhead.  He  felt  irresistibly  drawn  to  it ;  he 
must  go  back  to  that  spot. 

He  ran  with  all  his  might  up  the  mountain,  never 
stopping  once  until  he  had  reached  the  group  of  trees 
and  had  slipped  in  under  them.  The  only  opening 
in  this  retreat  was  on  the  outer  side,  toward  the 
valley,  so  he  felt  safely  hidden.     All  around  him 


68  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

was  great  silence  ;  no  sound  came  up  from  below ; 
only  the  little  bird  was  still  whistling  its  merry  tune. 
The  sun  was  setting ;  the  high  snow  peaks  began 
to  glimmer  and  to  glow,  and  over  the  whole  green 
alp  lay  the  golden  evening  light.  Rudi  looked  about 
him  in  silent  wonder;  an  unknown  feeling  of  ease 
and  comfort  came  over  him.  Here  he  was  safe;  there 
was  no  one  to  be  seen  or  heard  in  any  direction. 

He  sat  there  a  long  time  and  would  have  liked 
never  to  go  away  again,  for  he  had  never  felt  so 
happy  in  his  life.  But  he  heard  heavy  steps  com- 
ing from  the  hut  behind  him.  It  was  the  herdsman ; 
he  was  coming  along  carrying  a  small  bucket;  he 
was  probably  going  to  the  stream  to  fetch  water. 
Rudi  tried  to  be  as  quiet  as  a  mouse,  for  he  was  so 
used  to  having  every  one  scold  and  ridicule  him  that 
he  thought  the  herdsman  would  do  the  same,  or  at 
least  would  drive  him  away.  He  huddled  down  un- 
der the  bushes  ;  but  the  branches  crackled.  Franz 
Martin  listened,  then  came  over  and  looked  under 
the  fir  trees. 

*'  What  are  you  doing  in  there,  half  buried  in  the 
ground  ?  "  asked  the  herdsman  with  smiling  face. 

**  Nothing,"  answered  Rudi  in  a  faint  voice  that 
trembled  with  fear. 

*'  Come  out,  child !  You  need  not  be  afraid,  if 
you   have    done    nothing   wrong.    Why   are    you 


69 


70  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

hiding?  Did  you  creep  in  here  with  your  cheese 
roll  so  that  you  could  eat  it  in  peace  ? ' ' 

"  No ;  I  had  no  cheese  roll,"  said  Rudi,  still 
trembling. 

"  You  did  n't  ?  and  why  not  ?  "  asked  the  herds- 
man in  a  tone  of  voice  that  no  one  had  ever  used 
toward  Rudi  before,  arousing  an  altogether  new 
feeling  in  him,  —  trust  in  a  human  being. 

**  They  pushed  me  away,"  he  answered,  as  he 
arose  from  his  hiding  place. 

"  There,  now,"  continued  the  friendly  herdsman  ; 
**  I  can  at  least  see  you.  Come  a  little  nearer.  And 
why  don't  you  defend  yourself  when  they  push  you 
away  ?  They  all  push  each  other,  but  every  one 
manages  to  get  a  turn,  and  why  not  you  ? " 

"  They  are  stronger,"  said  Rudi,  so  convincingly 
that  Franz  Martin  could  offer  no  further  argument 
in  the  matter.  He  now  got  a  good  look  at  the  boy, 
who  stood  before  the  stalwart  herdsman  like  a  little 
stick  before  a  great  pine  tree.  The  strong  man 
looked  down  pityingly  at  the  meager  little  figure,  that 
seemed  actually  mere  skin  and  bones ;  out  of  the 
pale,  pinched  face  two  big  eyes  looked  up  timidly. 

"  Whose  boy  are  you  ?  "  asked  the  herdsman. 

'*  Nobody's,"  was  the  answer. 

''  But  you  must  have  a  home  somewhere.  Where 
do  you  live  ?  " 


IN  THE  UPPER  PASTURE  yi 

''  With  Poor  Grass  Joe." 

Franz  Martin  began  to  understand.  "  Ah  !  so 
you  are  that  one,"  he  said,  as  if  remembering  some- 
thing ;  for  he  had  often  heard  of  Stupid  Rudi,  who 
was  of  no  use  to  anybody,  and  was  too  dull  even  to 
herd  a  cow. 

"  Come  along  with  me,"  he  said  sympathetically; 
"if  you  live  with  Joe,  no  wonder  you  look  like  a 
little  spear  of  grass  yourself.  Come !  the  cheese 
roll  is  all  gone,  but  we  '11  find  something  else." 

Rudi  hardly  knew  what  was  happening  to  him. 
He  followed  after  Franz  Martin  because  he  had 
been  told  to,  but  it  seemed  as  though  he  were 
going  to  some  pleasure,  and  that  was  something 
altogether  new  to  him.  Franz  Martin  went  into 
the  hut,  and  taking  down  a  round  loaf  of  bread 
from  an  upper  shelf,  he  cut  a  big  slice  across  the 
whole  loaf.  Then  he  went  to  the  huge  ball  of 
butter,  shining  like  a  lump  of  gold  in  the  corner, 
and  hacked  off  a  generous  piece.  This  he  spread 
over  the  bread  and  then  handed  the  thickly  but- 
tered slice  to  Rudi.  Never  in  all  his  life  had 
the  boy  had  anything  like  it.  He  looked  at  it  as 
though  it  could  not  possibly  belong  to  him. 

"  Come  outside  and  eat  it ;  I  must  go  for  water," 
said  Franz  Martin,  while  he  watched  with  twin- 
kling eyes  the  expression  of  joy  and  amazement 


72  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

on  the  child's  face.  Rudi  obeyed.  Outside  he  sat 
down  on  the  ground,  and  while  the  herdsman  went 
over  to  Clear  Brook  he  took  a  big  bite  into  his 
bread,  and  then  another  and  another,  and  could  not 
understand  how  there  could  be  anything  in  the 
world  so  delicious,  and  how  he  could  have  it,  and 
how  there  could  still  be  some  of  it  left,  —  for  it  was 
a  huge  piece.  The  evening  breeze  played  softly 
about  his  head  and  swayed  the  young  fir  trees  to 
and  fro,  where  the  little  bird  was  still  sitting  on  its 
topmost  branch  and  singing  forth  into  the  golden 
evening  sky.  Rudi's  heart  swelled  with  unknown 
happiness  and  he  felt  like  singing  with  the  little  bird. 

Franz  Martin  had  meanwhile  gone  back  and 
forth  several  times  with  his  little  pail.  Each  time 
he  had  stood  awhile  by  the  stream  and  looked 
about  him.  The  mountains  no  longer  glowed  with 
the  evening  light,  but  now  the  moon  rose  full  and 
golden  from  behind  the  white  peaks.  The  herds- 
man came  back  to  the  hut  and  stood  beside  Rudi, 
who  was  still  sitting  quietly  in  the  same  spot. 

"  You  like  it  here,  do  you  ? "  he  asked  with  a 
smile.  "  You  have  finished  your  supper,  I  see. 
What  do  you  think  of  going  home  ?  See  how  the 
moon  has  come  to  light  your  way." 

Rudi  had  really  had  no  thought  of  leaving,  but 
now  he  realized  that  it  would  probably  be  necessary. 


IN   THE   UPPER   PASTURE  73 

He  arose,  thanked  Franz  Martin  once  more,  and 
started  off.  But  he  got  no  farther  than  the  little 
fir  trees ;  something  held  him  back.  He  looked 
around  once  more,  and  finding  that  the  herdsman 
had  gone  into  the  cottage  and  could  not  see  him, 
he  slipped  in  quickly  under  the  shadowy  bushes. 
Franz  Martin  was  the  only  person  in  all  the  world 
who  had  ever  been  kind  or  sympathetic  toward  him. 
This  had  so  touched  the  boy  that  he  could  not  go 
away ;  he  felt  he  must  stay  near  this  good  man. 
Hidden  by  the  branches,  Rudi  peeped  through  an 
opening  to  see  if  he  might  not  get  another  glimpse 
of  his  friend. 

After  a  little  while  Franz  Martin  did  come  out 
again.  He  stood  before  the  door  of  his  hut  and 
with  folded  arms  looked  out  over  the  silent  moun- 
tain world  as  it  lay  before  him  in  the  soft  moon- 
light. The  face  of  the  herdsman,  too,  was  illumined 
by  the  gentle  light.  Any  one  seeing  the  face  at 
that  moment,  with  its  expression  of  peaceful  happi- 
ness, would  have  been  the  better  for  it.  The  man 
folded  his  hands ;  he  seemed  to  be  saying  a  silent 
evening  prayer.  Suddenly  he  said  in  a  loud  voice, 
"  God  give  you  good  night,"  and  went  into  his  hut 
and  closed  the  door.  The  good-night  message  must 
have  been  for  his  old  friends  the  mountains,  and 
the  people  whom  he  held  in  his  heart,  though  he 


74  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

could  not  see  them.  Rudi  had  been  looking  on  with 
silent  awe.  If  Franz  Martin  attracted  every  one 
who  ever  knew  him  by  his  serene,  pleasant  ways, 
what  love  and  admiration  must  he  have  aroused  in 
the  heart  of  little  Rudi,  whose  only  friend  and 
benefactor  he  was ! 

When  all  was  dark  and  quiet  in  the  hut,  Rudi 
rose  and  ran  down  the  mountain  as  fast  as  he 
could. 

It  was  late,  and  there  was  no  light  to  be  seen  in 
the  cottage ;  but  he  did  not  mind,  for  he  knew  the 
door  was  never  locked.  He  went  quietly  into  the 
house  and  crept  into  his  bed,  which  he  shared  with 
Uli.  The  latter  was  now  sleeping  heavily,  after 
having  expressed  his  satisfaction  at  Rudi's  absence 
by  exclaiming,  "  How  lucky  that  Rudi  is  getting 
too  stupid  even  to  find  his  bed  !  I  have  room  to 
sleep  in  comfort  for  once." 

Rudi  lay  down  quietly,  and  until  his  eyes  closed 
he  still  saw  Franz  Martin  before  him,  standing  in 
the  moonlight  with  folded  hands.  For  the  first 
time  in  his  life  Rudi  fell  asleep  with  a  happy  heart. 


CHAPTER  III 
A   MINISTERING  ANGEL 

The  following  day  was  Sunday.  The  community 
of  the  Hillside  belonged  to  the  Beckenried  church 
in  the  valley.  It  was  a  long  walk  to  church,  but  the 
children  were  obliged  to  go  to  Sunday  school  regu- 
larly, for  the  pastor  was  stern  in  insisting  that  the 
children  must  be  properly  brought  up.  So  on  that 
day  the  whole  troop  wended  its  way  as  usual  down 
the  hill,  and  soon  they  were  all  sitting  as  quietly  as 
possible  on  the  long  wooden  benches  in  church. 
Other  groups  had  assembled  ;  the  pastor  got  them 
all  settled,  and  then  began.  He  said  that  he  had 
told  them  the  last  time  about  the  life  hereafter, 
and  as  his  glance  fell  on  Rudi,  he  continued : 
*'  Now,  Rudi,  I  will  ask  you  something  that  you 
can  surely  answer,  even  if  we  cannot  expect  much 
of  you.  Where  will  all  good  Christians  —  even  the 
poorest  and  lowliest  of  us,  if  we  have  led  good  lives 
—  finally  be  so  happy  as  to  know  no  more  sorrow  .?  " 

*'  In  the  hut  of  the  high  pasture,"  Rudi  replied 
without  hesitating. 

75 


je  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

But  he  heard  snickering  all  about  him  and  looked 
around  timidly.  Mocking  faces  met  him  on  every 
side  and  the  children  all  seemed  bursting  with 
suppressed  laughter.  Rudi  bent  down  his  head  as 
though  he  wished  to  crawl  into  the  floor.  Of  the 
pastor's  previous  lesson  he  had  heard  nothing,  be- 
cause he  had  been  engaged  the  whole  hour  in  dodg- 
ing sly  attacks  from  the  rear.  Now  he  had  answered 
the  question  entirely  from  his  own  experience. 

The  pastor  looked  at  him  steadily ;  but  when  he 
saw  that  Rudi  had  no  thought  of  laughing,  but  was 
sitting  there  in  fear  and  mortification,  he  shook  his 
head  doubtfully  and  said,  "  There  is  nothing  to  be 
done  with  him." 

When  the  lesson  was  over  the  whole  crowd  came 
running  after  Rudi,  laughing  noisily  and  shouting, 
"  Rudi,  were  you  dreaming  of  the  cheese  party  in 
Sunday  school.'*"  and  "Rudi,  why  didn't  you  tell 
about  cheese  rolls  }  " 

The  boy  ran  away  like  a  hunted  rabbit,  trying  to 
escape  from  his  noisy  tormentors.  He  ran  up  the 
hill,  where  he  knew  the  others  would  not  pursue 
him,  for  they  meant  to  pass  the  pleasant  summer 
afternoon  down  in  the  village. 

He  ran  farther  and  farther  up  the  mountain. 
For  all  his  trials  he  had  now  a  solace  :  he  could  fly 
to  the  upper  pasture  and  console  himself  with  the 


A  MINISTERING  ANGEL  TJ 

sight  of  Franz  Martin's  friendly  face.  There  he 
could  sit  very  quietly  in  his  little  retreat  and  be 
safe  from  pursuit.  As  he  sat  there  to-day  under 
the  fir  trees,  the  little  bird  was  again  singing  over- 
head. The  snow  peaks  glistened  in  the  sun,  and 
here  and  there  a  clear  mountain  stream  made  its 
way  between  green  slopes  of  verdure. 

Rudi  breathed  a  sigh  of  contentment  as  he 
looked  over  the  peaceful  scene.  He  forgot  all 
about  his  recent  tormentors  and  was  conscious 
only  of  the  one  wish,  —  that  he  might  never  have 
to  leave  this  spot  again.  Now  and  then  he  got  a 
glimpse  of  Franz  Martin,  for  whom  he  was  continu- 
ally watching.  Then  he  would  crouch  down  and 
make  himself  as  small  as  possible,  for  he  had  the 
feeling  that  if  Franz  Martin  should  find  him  here 
again  he  might  think  he  had  come  to  get  another 
piece  of  bread  and  butter,  while  really  it  was  only 
because  this  man  was  the  first  and  only  person  who 
had  ever  been  friendly  and  kind  to  him,  so  that  he 
felt  happier  in  his  presence  than  anywhere  else  in 
the  world.  The  herdsman  did  not  discover  him, 
and  Rudi  sat  in  his  little  nook  until  the  stars  came 
out  and  Franz  Martin  stepped  forth  from  his  hut 
again  and  said,  "  God  give  you  good  night." 

Then  at  last  Rudi  ran  home.  It  was  late,  as  on 
the  evening  before,  when  he  found  his  bed  ;  but 


yS  '      WITHOUT  A  P^RIEND 

to-night  he  was  hungry,  for  he  had  had  nothing 
since  morning.  He  did  not  mind  it  very  much, 
though,  he  had  been  so  happy  on  the  mountain. 

So  a  whole  week  passed .  Whenever  Rudi  thought 
no  one  was  watching  him  he  ran  up  the  alp  and 
slipped  into  his  hiding  place.  There  he  would  ob- 
serve the  doings  of  the  herdsman  from  moment  to 
moment,  and  never  would  he  leave  his  hiding  place 
until  Franz  Martin  had  said,  '*  God  give  you  good 
night."  It  seemed  to  him  now  as  though  the  even- 
ing blessing  were  meant  for  him,  too. 

The  days  that  followed  were  exceptionally  warm. 
The  sun  rose  each  morning  in  a  sky  as  cloudless  as 
that  in  which  it  had  sunk  the  night  before.  The 
pasturage  was  especially  fine,  and  Franz  Martin  got 
such  rich  milk  from  the  cows  that  he  turned  out 
most  excellent  cheeses.  That  pleased  him,  and  his 
happy  whistle  could  be  heard  from  earliest  dawn 
to  evening  as  he  went  about  his  work.  On  Satur- 
day of  this  week  he  was  at  work  even  earlier  than 
usual,  for  this  was  one  of  the  days  when  he  was 
to  carry  three  or  four  of  the  cheeses  down  to 
the  lake  and  have  them  shipped.  Soon  he  had 
them  packed  and  strapped  to  his  back  and  was 
trudging  in  happy  mood  down  the  mountain, 
alpenstock  in  hand.  It  was  the  hottest  day  of 
the  whole  summer. 


A  MINISTERING  ANGEL  79 

The  farther  down  he  went  the  more  he  was  op- 
pressed by  the  excessive  heat,  and  many  times  he 
said  to  himself,  "Oh,  how  glad  I  shall  be  to  get 
back  to  my  hut  this  evening  in  the  cool  upper  air  ! 
Down  here  it  is  like  an  oven." 

He  reached  the  landing  place  just  as  the  boat 
came  in  that  was  to  carry  the  cheese.  His  business 
was  quickly  settled,  and  then  he  stood  a  moment 
thinking  whether  he  should  go  right  back  up  the 
mountain  or  stop  for  something  to  eat.  But  he  had 
no  appetite ;  his  head  was  hot  and  heavy  and  he 
wished  only  to  get  back.  Then  some  one  touched 
his  arm.  It  was  one  of  the  ship  hands  who  had 
just  helped  load  the  boat. 

*'Come,  Franz  Martin;  it  is  a  warm  day;  we'll 
go  in  the  shade  and  have  a  glass  of  wine,"  he  said, 
as  he  drew  the  herdsman  toward  the  tavern  where 
the  big  trees  stood. 

Franz  Martin  was  hot  and  thirsty  and  was  not 
averse  to  sitting  down  a  little  while  in  the  shade. 
He  emptied  his  glass  at  one  draught ;  but  in  a  few 
moments  he  rose,  saying  that  he  felt  quite  oppressed 
by  this  heavy  lower  air,  and  that  he  was  used  to 
cold  milk  and  water  and  not  to  wine.  He  took 
leave  of  his  companion  and  started  off  with  long 
strides  up  the  mountain.  But  never  had  he  found 
the  ascent  so  difficult.    The  noonday  sun  beat  upon 


8o  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

his  head,  his  pulse  throbbed,  and  his  feet  were  so 
heavy  that  he  could  scarcely  lift  them.  But  he  kept 
on  resolutely.  The  steeper  the  alp  the  longer  grew 
his  strides,  and  he  spurred  himself  on  with  the  pros- 
pect that  now  there  was  only  an  hour,  now  a  half 
hour,  and  at  last  only  a  quarter  hour  of  hot  climb- 
ing before  him;  then  he  would  be  at  home  and 
could  lie  down  to  rest  on  the  fresh  hay. 

Now  he  had  reached  the  last  steep  ascent.  The 
sun  burned  like  fire  on  his  head ;  suddenly  all  grew 
dark  before  his  eyes ;  he  swayed  and  fell  heavily  to 
the  ground  —  he  had  lost  consciousness. 

When  the  milker  came  in  the  evening  he  found 
that  Franz  Martin  had  not  yet  returned.  He  set 
the  milk  down  in  the  corner  and  went  away ;  he 
never  thought  of  looking  about  for  the  dairyman. 
But  there  was  some  one  else  there  who  had  been 
looking  for  Franz  Martin  for  a  long  time,  and  that 
was  Rudi.  The  boy  had  been  sitting  in  his  retreat 
for  several  hours.  He  knew  every  step  the  herds- 
man had  to  make  and  how  his  duties  followed  one 
after  another ;  he  was  very  much  surprised  to  see 
how  long  Franz  Martin  left  the  milk  standing  to-day, 
for  he  had  always  poured  it  immediately  into  the 
various  vessels.  Some  of  it,  for  buttering,  was 
poured  into  the  big  round  pans  and  left  to  stand 


A  MINISTERING  ANGEL 


until  all  the  cream  rose  to  the  top  in  a  thick  layer ; 
the  rest  of  it  was  poured  into  the  cheese  kettle.  All 
this  Rudi  had  seen  from  day  to  day  through  the 
open  house  door. 

Still  the  herdsman  did  not  come.  The  boy  began 
to  feel  that  there  was  something  wrong.  He  came 
out  very  softly  from  his  hiding  place  and  went 
toward  the  hut.  Here  all  was  still  and  deserted,  in 
the  lower  room  as  well  as  in  the  hayloft  above. 
There  was  no  fire  crackling  under  the  kettle ;  not 
a  sound  was  to  be  heard  ;  everything  seemed  dead. 
Rudi  ran  anxiously  around  the  outside  of  the  hut, 
up  and  down,  and  in  all  directions.  Then,  suddenly, 
down  on  the  path  he  spied  Franz  Martin  lying  on 
the  ground.  He  ran  toward  the  spot.  There  lay 
his  friend  with  closed  eyes,  groaning  and  languish- 
ing in  great  distress.  He  was  fiery  hot  and  his  lips 
were  dry  and  hard.  Rudi  stood  and  stared  for  a 
moment,  pale  with  fright,  at  his  benefactor.  Then 
he  ran  down  the  mountain  as  fast  as  he  could  run. 

Franz  Martin  had  been  lying  on  the  ground  un- 
conscious for  many  hours ;  a  terrible  fever  had 
come  upon  him.  He  was  tortured  by  awful  thirst. 
Now  and  then  it  seemed  to  him  in  his  fever  that 
he  was  coming  to  water  and  was  about  to  bend 
over  and  drink.  In  his  efforts  to  get  at  the  water 
he  would  wake  up  for  a  moment,  for  it  had  only 


82  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

been  delirium.  Then  he  found  himself  still  lying 
on  the  ground,  unable  to  move,  and  longing  in  vain 
for  a  drop  of  water.  He  would  lose  consciousness 
again  and  dream  he  was  lying  down  in  the  swamp 
where  he  had  seen  the  fine  strawberries  as  he 
passed  this  morning.  There  he  saw  them  hanging 
still.  Oh,  how  he  longed  for  them  !  He  put  out 
his  hand,  but  in  vain,  —  he  could  not  reach  them. 
But  presently  he  had  one  in  his  mouth  ;  an  angel 
was  kneeling  beside  him  and  had  given  it  to  him, 
—  one,  and  another,  and  another.  Oh,  how  good 
the  juice  tasted  in  his  parched  mouth  !  Franz  Mar- 
tin licked  and  smacked  his  lips  over  the  refreshing 
morsel.  He  awoke.  Was  it  really  true  ?  was  he 
really  awake  ?  It  was  no  dream ;  there  knelt  the 
angel  beside  him  and  laid  another  big,  juicy  straw- 
berry in  his  mouth. 

"  Oh,  you  good  angel,  another  one !  "  said  Franz 
Martin  softly ;  but  not  one  only,  —  five,  six,  the 
angel  put  into  his  mouth,  and  Franz  Martin  eagerly 
devoured  them.  Suddenly  a  look  of  pain  shot  over 
his  face;  he  laid  his  hand  on  his  forehead  and  could 
only  murmur,  ''Water,"  before  he  became  quite  un- 
conscious again;  he  could  not  even  eat  the  last 
strawberry. 

He  dreamed  most  horrible  things :  his  head 
grew  as  big  as  his  very  largest  ball  of  butter,  and 


83 


84  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

then  grew  still  larger  and  so  very  heavy  that  he 
thought  in  terror,  "  I  shall  not  be  able  to  carry  it 
alone ;  they  will  have  to  hold  it  up  with  props,  —  like 
an  overloaded  apple  tree."  And  then  he  felt  quite 
plainly  that  his  head  was  full  of  gunpowder ;  some 
one  had  lighted  it  from  behind  and  now  it  was  burn- 
ing with  awful  fury  and  soon  would  blow  everything 
to  pieces.  Then  suddenly  Clear  Brook  came  run- 
ning down  over  his  brow,  cool  and  invigorating, 
then  over  his  whole  face  and  into  his  mouth  ;  and 
Franz  Martin  swallowed  and  swallowed,  and  awoke 
to  consciousness. 

It  was  quite  true,  —  shower  after  shower  of  icy 
water  ran  over  his  face  ;  then  he  felt  something  at 
his  mouth  like  a  little  b(5wl,  and  he  greedily  drank 
the  cool  water.  Over  him  were  the  twinkling  stars. 
These  he  could  see  plainly,  and  also  that  he  was  still 
lying  out  on  the  open  ground.  But  it  could  not  be 
Clear  Brook  that  was  flowing  over  him  and  giving 
him  drink.  He  could  not  make  out  what  it  was,  but 
it  felt  very  good  and  refreshing,  and  he  murmured 
gratefully, ''  O  blessed  Father,  how  I  thank  you  for 
your  kindness  and  for  this  ministering  angel !  " 

At  last  he  felt  something  on  his  brow,  so  cool 
and  comforting  that  he  said,  *'  Now  the  fire  can- 
not get  through,"  and  contentedly  fell  asleep  and 
dreamed  no  more. 


CHAPTER  IV 
AS   THE   MOTHER  WISHES   IT 

The  sun  was  rising  in  splendor  from  behind  the 
high  peaks  when  Franz  Martin  opened  his  eyes  and 
looked  about  him  confusedly.  He  shivered  a  little, 
—  he  felt  chilly.  He  wanted  to  sit  up,  but  his  head 
was  heavy  and  dull.  He  put  his  hand  to  his  brow  ; 
it  seemed  as  though  there  was  something  lying 
on  it.  And  he  was  not  mistaken;  sixfold,  wet  and 
heavy,  his  big  kerchief  that  he  had  left  in  the  hut 
lay  upon  his  head.  He  pushed  it  away,  and  as  the 
cool  morning  breeze  played  across  his  brow  he 
felt  so  refreshed  and  strengthened  that  he  sat  up 
quickly  and  looked  about  him.  He  met  a  pair  of 
big,  serious  eyes  fixed  steadfastly  upon  him. 

"Are  you  here,  Rudi  ? "  he  asked  in  surprise. 
"  How  did  you  get  up  so  early  ?  But  now  that  you 
are  here,  come  closer,  so  that  I  can  lean  on  your 
shoulder;  I  am  dizzy  and  cannot  get  up  alone." 

Rudi  sprang  up  from  his  seat  and  went  close  to 
the  herdsman.    He  braced  his  feet  on  the  ground 


86  WITHOUT   A  FRIEND 

with  all  his  might  so  that  Franz  Martin  would  have 
a  firm  support  in  him.  In  the  toilsome  ascent  to 
the  hut  the  herdsman,  still  leaning  on  the  boy's 
shoulder,  began  to  recall  one  thing  after  another 
that  had  occurred  to  him;  but  there  were  various 
incidents  for  which  he  could  not  account.  Perhaps 
Rudi  could  help  him  out. 

On  reaching  the  hut  Franz  Martin  sat  down  on 
one  of  the  three-legged  stools  and  said  :  "  Rudi, 
get  the  other  stool  and  sit  down  by  me.  But  first 
get  down  the  big  jar  and  we  will  have  a  good  drink 
of  cold  milk  together,  for  I  cannot  make  a  fire  yet. 
There  is  a  little  bowl  beside  it ;  see  — "  He  stopped 
and  looked  about  in  surprise.  ''  But  what  has  be- 
come of  it.-*  I  always  set  it  up  there  ;  I  don't  know 
what  has  happened  to  me  since  yesterday." 

Rudi's  face  turned  fiery  red  ;  he  knew  well  enough 
who  had  taken  down  the  little  bowl.  He  said  timidly, 
"It  is  down  there  on  the  ground,"  and  ran  and 
fetched  it ;  then  he  brought  the  milk  jar,  and  set 
them  both  down  before  Franz  Martin. 

The  latter  shook  his  head  in  perplexity.  As 
long  as  he  had  lived  he  had  never  set  his  bowl  on 
the  ground  there  by  the  door.  He  drank  his  milk 
silently  and  thoughtfully,  filled  the  bowl  afresh, 
and  said :  "  Come,  Rudi,  you  drink,  too.  You  have 
done  me  a  good  service  in  coming  up  so  early.    Did 


AS   THE   MOTHER   WISHES   IT  87 

you  think  there  might  be  cheese  rolls  to-day,  and 
you  would  be  here  first  ?  " 

'*No;  truly  I  did  not,"  protested  Rudi. 

"Well,  tell  me  this,"  continued  the  herdsman, 
who  had  been  looking  now  at  the  wet  cloth  that 
lay  on  the  table,  now  at  the  little  water  pail  that 
stood  waiting  at  the  door  as  if  ready  to  start  out,  — 
"  tell  me,  Rudi,  did  I  have  the  cloth  on  my  head 
when  you  came  up  early  this  morning  ? " 

Rudi  turned  scarlet,  for  he  thought  that  if  Franz 
Martin  heard  all  that  he  had  done  perhaps  he  would 
not  be  pleased ;  but  the  man  was  looking  him  so 
earnestly  in  the  eyes  that  he  had  to  tell  all.  **  I 
laid  it  on  your  head,"  he  began  bashfully. 

"But  why,  Rudi  .!* "  asked  the  herdsman  in  sur- 
prise. 

'*  Because  you  were  so  hot,"  answered  Rudi. 

Franz  Martin  was  more  and  more  astonished. 
"  But  I  was  awake  at  sunrise.  When  did  you  come 
up  ?  " 

"  Yesterday  at  five,  or  perhaps  four,  o'clock," 
stammered  Rudi  timidly.  *'The  milker  did  not 
come  until  long  afterward." 

"  What !  you  were  up  here  all  night  ?  What  did 
you  do  or  want  here  ?  " 

But  the  herdsman  saw  that  Rudi  was  quite  terri- 
fied.   The  visions  of  the  night  recurred  to  him,  and 


88  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

with  fatherly  kindness  he  patted  the  boy's  shoulder 
and  said  encouragingly,  "With  me  you  need  not 
be  afraid,  Rudi.  Here,  drink  another  glass  of  milk 
and  then  tell  me  everything  that  happened  from 
the  time  that  you  got  here." 

Cheered  thus,  Rudi  took  new  courage.  He  drank 
the  milk  in  long  draughts ;  it  tasted  delicious  to 
the  hungry,  thirsty  boy.  Then  he  began  to  relate  : 
**  I  came  up  here  to  sit  in  the  bushes  a  Httle  while, 
but  only  as  I  did  every  day,  not  on  account  of  the 
cheese  rolls.  And  then,  after  the  milker  had  brought 
the  milk  and  you  did  not  come  for  so  long,  I  looked 
for  you,  and  I  found  you  on  the  ground,  and  you 
were  red  and  hot  and  seemed  thirsty.  So  I  ran 
down  quickly  to  the  swamp  and  got  all  the  big 
strawberries  I  could  find  and  brought  them  up  to 
you,  and  you  were  glad  for  them.  But  you  pointed 
to  your  head  and  wanted  water  on  it.  I  fetched 
the  little  bowl  out  of  the  hut,  and  the  pail,  and 
filled  them  at  the  brook,  and  poured  the  water  over 
your  head  and  gave  you  to  drink,  for  you  were  very 
thirsty.  Whenever  the  pail  was  empty  I  went  to 
the  brook  and  filled  it;  but  because  the  water  ran 
off  your  head  so  fast  I  thought  a  heavy  cloth  would 
keep  wet  a  long  time.  So  I  got  the  cloth-  out  of 
the  hut  and  laid  it  thick  and  wet  on  your  head  and 
dipped  it  in  the  pail  whenever  it  got  dry  and  hot ; 


AS  thp:  mother  wishes  it  89 

and  then  at  last  you  awoke  when  it  was  morning, 
and  I  was  very  glad.  I  was  afraid  you  might  get 
very  sick." 

Franz  Martin  had  been  listening  with  earnest 
attention.  Now  everything  that  he  had  gone 
through  in  the  night  was  plain  to  him,  —  how  he 
thought  an  angel  had  come  to  him  with  strawber- 
ries, and  how  he  afterward  enjoyed  the  water  of 
Clear  Brook  as  the  real  water  of  life.  Franz  Mar- 
tin sat  and  gazed  at  Rudi  in  dumb  amazement,  as 
though  he  had  never  seen  a  boy  before.  Such  a 
boy  as  this  he  had  certainly  never  seen.  How  was 
it  possible,  he  said  to  himself,  that  this  boy,  whom 
every  one,  young  and  old,  never  called  anything 
else  but  "  Stupid  Rudi,"  had  been  clever  enough  to 
save  his  life,  which  had  certainly  been  in  great 
danger }  —  for  what  a  fever  had  been  consuming 
him  the  herdsman  knew  perfectly  well.  Had  Rudi 
not  quieted  this  fever  with  his  cooling  showers, 
who  knows  what  might  have  developed  by  morn- 
ing.!^ And  how  could  this  boy,  whom  no  one 
thought  worthy  of  a  friendly  word,  be  capable  of 
such  self-sacrifice  that  he  would  sit  up  and  care 
for  him  all  night  ? 

Tears  came  to  the  eyes  of  the  big,  stalwart  man 
as  he  looked  at  the  timid,  despised  little  fellow,  and 
thought  this  all  over.    Then  he  took  the  boy  by  the 


90  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

hand  and  said  :  "  We  will  be  good  friends,  Rudi ;  I 
have  much  to  thank  you  for  and  I  shall  not  forget 
it.  Do  me  one  more  favor.  I  am  so  weak  and 
shaky  that  I  must  lie  down  and  rest.  You  go 
down  to  my  mother  and  tell  her  to  come  to  me. 
Say  that  I  am  not  quite  well.  But  you  must  come 
back  with  her,  for  I  have  much  to  talk  over  with 
you  to-day.    Don't  forget." 

In  his  whole  life  Rudi  had  never  been  so  happy. 
He  ran  down  the  mountain,  leaping  and  skipping 
for  joy.  Franz  Martin  had  himself  told  him  to 
come  again,  and  now  he  need  no  longer  hide,  but 
might  walk  right  into  the  hut,  and,  better  still, 
Franz  Martin  had  said  that  he  would  be  good 
friends  with  him.  At  each  new  thought  Rudi 
leaped  high  into  the  air,  and  before  he  knew  it  he 
had  reached  the  Hillside.  Just  as  he  was  coming 
down  from  above  in  jumps  toward  the  neat  little 
cottage  with  the  shining  windows,  Frau  Vincenze 
came  up  from  below  in  her  Sunday  clothes,  prayer 
book  in  hand.  The  boy  ran  toward  her,  but  for 
several  moments  could  say  nothing ;  he  was  quite 
out  of  breath  with  running. 

"  Where  do  you  come  from  ?  "  said  the  proper 
little  woman  disapprovingly,  as  she  looked  the  boy 
over  from  head  to  foot.  She  thought  that  Sunday 
should  be  fittingly  observed,  and  Rudi  presented 


AS   THE   MOTHER  WISHES   IT 


91 


anything  but  a  holiday  appearance  in  his  little,  old, 
ragged  trousers  and  shirt.  "I  think  I  have  seen 
you  across  the  stream,"  she  said  ;  *'  you  must  belong 
to  Poor  Grass  Joe  ?  " 

"No,  I  am  only  Rudi,"  the  boy  replied  very 
humbly. 

Then  it  occurred  to  the  woman  that  Joe's  wife 
had  a  foolish  boy  in  her  house,  who  would  never 
be  of  any  use,  people  said.  This  was  probably  the 
boy.  **  But  what  do  you  want  of  me .?  "  she  asked 
in  growing  astonishment. 

Rudi  had  found  his  breath  again  and  now  deliv- 
ered his  message  clearly  and  correctly.  The  mother 
was  very  much  alarmed.  Never  before  had  her 
sturdy  Franz  Martin  had  any  illness,  and  that  he 
should  now  send  for  her,  instead  of  coming  down 
hjmself,  was  to  her  a  very  bad  indication.  With- 
out saying  a  word  she  went  into  the  house,  care- 
fully packed  everything  that  she  thought  they 
might  need,  and  in  a  few  moments  came  out  with 
a  big  basket  on  her  arm. 

**Come,"  she  said  to  Rudi ;  "we  will  start  right 
up.    Why  must  you  go  back  ?  " 

"I  don't  know,"  he  answered  shyly,  and  then 
added  hesitatingly,  as  though  he  were  afraid  it 
might  be  something  wrong,  "  Must  I  not  carry  the 
basket  ? " 


92  WITHOUT   A  FRIEND 

"  Ah,  yes  !  I  understand,"  the  mother  said  to 
herself ;  **  Franz  Martin  thought  that  I  should  be 
bringing  all  sorts  of  remedies,  and  the  boy  was  to 
carry  them  for  me." 

She  gave  Rudi  the  basket.  Silently  she  walked 
beside  him  up  the  mountain,  for  her  thoughts 
were  troubled.  Her  son  was  her  pride  and  joy  ; 
and  was  he  really  ill,  —  perhaps  dangerously  so  ? 
Her  alarm  increased  as  she  approached  the  hut. 
Her  knees  trembled  so  that  she  could  hardly 
keep  up. 

She  entered  the  hut.  There  was  no  one  there. 
She  looked  all  about,  then  up  into  the  hayloft. 
There  lay  her  son  buried  in  the  hay ;  she  could 
hardly  see  him.  With  beating  heart  she  climbed 
the  ladder.  Rudi  remained  respectfully  standing 
outside  the  door  after  he  had  shoved  the  basket 
inside.  As  the  mother  bent  anxiously  over  her  son 
he  opened  his  blue  eyes,  cheerily  stretched  forth  his 
hand,  and  sitting  up,  said :  "  God  bless  you,  mother  ! 
I  am  glad  you  have  come.  I  have  been  sleeping  like 
a  bear  ever  since  Rudi  went  away." 

The  mother  stared  at  her  son,  half  pleased,  half 
terrified.    She  did  not  know  what  to  think. 

*' Franz  Martin,"  she  said  earnestly,  "what  is 
wrong  with  you  ?  Are  you  talking  in  delirium,  or 
do  you  know  that  you  sent  for  me  ?  " 


AS  THE   MOTHER  WISHES   IT  93 

"  Yes,  yes,  mother,"  laughed  Franz  Martin  ;  **my 
mind  is  clear  now  and  the  fever  is  past.  But  my 
limbs  were  all  atremble ;  I  could  not  come  down 
to  you,  and  I  wanted  so  much  to  talk  to  you.  My 
knees  are  shaky  even  now,  and  I  could  not  get 
very  far." 

"But  what  is  it  ?  What  was  it  ?  Tell  me  about 
it,"  urged  the  mother,  sitting  down  on  the  hay 
beside  her  son. 

*'  I  will  explain  it  all  to  you,  mother,  just  as  it 
happened,"  he  said  quietly,  as  he  leaned  back  against 
the  hay  ;  ''  but  first  look  at  that  poor,  gaunt,  little 
boy  down  there,  who  hasn't  a  decent  garment  to 
his  name,  whom  no  one  thinks  worthy  of  a  kind 
word,  and  who  is  known  only  as  '  Stupid  Rudi.'  "    , 

The  mother  looked  down  at  Rudi,  who  was 
watching  the  herdsman  with  much  concern  to  see 
whether  he  was  going  to  faint  again. 

''Well,  and  then.!*"  asked  the  mother  intently 

''He  saved  my  life,  mother.  If  it  had  not  been 
for  this  little  boy,  I  should  still  be  lying  out  on  the 
ground  in  deadly  fever,  or  it  might  even  be  all  ended 
with  me  by  this  time." 

Then  Franz  Martin  told  her  everything  that  had 
happened  since  the  afternoon  before, —  how  Rudi 
had  stayed  with  him  all  night  and  had  cared  for 
him  and  relieved  him  from  the  consuming  thirst 


94  WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 

and  fever,  and  had  cooled  the  fire  in  his  head. 
The  cleverest  person  in  the  world  could  not  have 
done  it  better,  and  perhaps  no  other  person  would 
have  done  it  for  him. 

Again  and  again  the  mother  had  to  wipe  away 
her  tears.  She  thought  to  herself,  what  if  her 
Franz  Martin  had  lain  out  there  all  alone  and  for- 
saken in  his  agony  of  thirst,  and  had  been  quite 
consumed  by  the  fever,  and  no  one  had  known 
anything  about  him  ! 

Then  such  joy  and  gratitude  rose  in  her  heart 
that  she  cried  aloud  :  *'  God  be  thanked !  God  be 
thanked !  " 

And  for  little  Rudi  she  suddenly  felt  such  a 
heart  full  of  love  that  she  exclaimed  eagerly : 
"  Franz  Martin,  Rudi  shall  not  go  back  to  Joe's 
wife !  The  boy  has  probably  been  only  half  fed, 
and  she  has  let  him  run  about  in  dirt  and  rags. 
This  very  day  he  shall  go  with  me,  and  to-morrow 
I  will  make  him  some  decent  clothes.  He  shall 
not  fare  poorly  with  us  ;  we  will  not  forget  what 
he  has  done  for  you." 

"  That  is  exactly  what  I  wanted,  mother,  but  of 
course  I  had  to  find  out  what  you  would  say  to  it ; 
now  you  have  the  same  plan  as  I,  and  have  thought 
it  all  out  in  the  best  possible  way.  There  is  noth- 
ing in  the  world  like  a  mother,  after  all !  " 


AS   THE   MOTHER   WISHES    IT  95 

And  Franz  Martin  looked  at  her  so  lovingly  and 
happily  that  it  warmed  her  to  her  heart's  core,  and 
she  thought  to  herself,  "  Nor  is  there  anything  in 
the  world  like  a  manly,  virtuous  son."  Then  she 
said  :  "  Now  you  must  eat  and  get  strong  again. 
I  have  brought  fresh  eggs  and  wheat  bread,  and  I 
will  go  and  start  the  fire.  Take  your  time  about 
coming  down";  which  Franz  Martin  found  that 
he  was  really  obliged  to  do,  for  he  was  still  weak 
and  trembling.  But  he  finally  succeeded.  When 
he  got  down  he  beckoned  to  Rudi,  who  had  been 
looking  in  through  the  door  all  this  time,  to  come 
and  sit  at  the  table  beside  him. 

"  Rudi,"  he  said,  smiUng  into  the  boy's  eyes, 
"  do  you  want  to  grow  up  to  be  a  dairyman  ?  " 

A  look  of  joy  came  over  Rudi's  face,  but  the  next 
moment  it  disappeared,  for  in  his  ears  rang  the  dis- 
couraging words  that  he  had  heard  so  many,  many 
times,  —  *'  He  will  never  amount  to  anything,"  "  He 
can't  do  anything,"  **  He  will  never  be  of  any  use," 
—  and  he  answered  despondently,  "  I  can  never  be 
anything." 

"  Rudi,  you  shall  be  a  dairyman,"  said  Franz 
Martin  decisively.  ''  You  have  done  very  well  in 
your  first  undertaking.  Now  you  shall  stay  with 
me  and  carry  milk  and  water  and  help  me  in  every- 
thing, and  I  will  show  you  how  to  make  butter  and 


96  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

cheese,  and  as  soon  as  you  are  old  enough  you 
shall  stand  beside  me  at  the  kettle  and  be  my 
helpmate." 

"  Here,  in  your  hut  ?"  asked  Rudi,  to  whom  the 
prospect  of  such  happiness  was  almost  incompre- 
hensible. 

''  Right  here  in  my  hut,"  declared  Franz  Martin. 

In  Rudi's  face  appeared  an  expression  of  such 
radiant  joy  that  the  herdsman  could  not  take  his 
eyes  from  him.  The  boy  seemed  transformed. 
The  mother,  too,  noticed  it,  as  she  set  on  the  table 
before  them  the  big  plate  of  egg  omelet  that  she 
had  just  prepared.  She  patted  the  boy's  head  and 
said,  *'Yes,  little  Rudi,  to-day  we  will  be  happy 
together,  and  to-morrow,  too ;  and  every  day  we 
will  thank  the  good  God  that  he  brought  you  to 
Franz  Martin  at  just  the  right  time,  although  no 
one  may  know  why  it  was  that  you  came  up  here." 

The  happy  feast  began.  Never  in  his  life  had 
Rudi  seen  so  many  good  things  together  on  a 
table ;  for  besides  the  omelet  the  mother  had  set 
out  fresh  wheat  bread  and  a  big,  golden  ball  of 
butter  and  a  piece  of  snow-white  cheese,  while  in 
the  middle  of  the  table  stood  a  bowl  of  creamy 
milk.  Of  each  dish  there  was  a  generous  portion 
for  Rudi,  and  when  he  had  finished  one  helping 
there  was  another  ready  for  him. 


97 


98  WITHOUT  A   FRIEND 

When  the  mother  was  preparing  to  go  home 
in  the  evening  she  said  :  "  Franz  Martin,  I  have 
changed  my  mind.  Rudi  shall  stay  up  here  with 
you  until  you  are  strong.  He  can  fetch  things 
and  be  useful  to  you.  I  will  arrange  matters  with 
Joe's  wife." 

Franz  Martin  was  satisfied,  and  Rudi's  happiness 
knew  no  bounds.  Now  he  was  really  at  home  with 
Franz  Martin.  That  night,  when  the  evening  bless- 
ing was  said,  he  was  not  crouching  under  the  fir 
trees,  but  stood  beside  his  friend  under  the  starry 
sky,  as  the  latter  folded  his  hands  and  said,  "  Come, 
Rudi,  we  will  say  our  evening  prayer." 

Reverently  he,  too,  folded  his  hands,  and  when 
at  the  close  the  herdsman  said,  **God  give  you 
good  night,"  Rudi's  heart  was  so  full  of  joy  that 
he  wanted  to  call  out  the  blessing  to  everybody  in 
the  world,  —  **God  give  you  good  night !  " 

That  very  evening  the  mother  went  over  to  Joe's 
wife.  The  latter  was  standing  before  her  house  with 
the  three  boys  and  Lisi,  and  was  trying  to  make 
out  what  they  were  telling  her.  They  were  all 
talking  at  once,  and  all  she  could  understand  was 
that  it  was  something  about  Franz  Martin,  whose 
illness  the  milker  had  told  them  about.  When 
Frau  Vincenze  explained  why  she  had  come,  and 
said  that  she  and  her  son  had  agreed  to  take  Rudi 


AS  THE   MOTHER  WISHES   IT  99 

as  their  own  child,  the  woman  made  a  great  ado, 
assuring  her  that  they  would  do  far  better  to  take 
one  of  her  three  boys,  who  would  be  much  more 
help  to  Franz  Martin,  a  hundred  times  more,  than 
Stupid  Rudi. 

And  the  boys  all  shouted  at  the  top  of  their 
voices,  "  Me  !  me  !  me  !  "  for  they  well  knew  how 
kind  Franz  Martin  was,  and  what  good  things  there 
were  to  eat  in  the  hut  on  the  mountain.  But  all 
their  begging  and  clamoring  was  in  vain.  Frau 
Vincenze  said  very  quietly  that  she  was  determined 
to  have  Rudi,  that  she  knew  him,  and  that  he  had 
more  heart  and  sense  than  many  another  who  called 
him  "  Stupid  Rudi."  Moreover,  she  wanted  to  warn 
the  boys  to  be  careful  henceforth  about  their  jeer- 
ing and  gibing,  or  they  would  have  to  settle  with 
Franz  Martin  and  his  strong  arm.  When  she  left 
them  they  all  stared  after  her,  dumb  and  stupefied, 
and  each  one  of  the  children  thought  in  his  heart, 
"  I  wish  I  were  Rudi !  he  '11  have  fine  times,  —  like 
a  king,  up  in  Franz  Martin's  hut." 

From  that  day  on,  whenever  the  boys  saw  Rudi 
anywhere,  they  ran  after  him  and  each  one  wanted 
to  be  his  best  friend,  for  they  all  remembered  the 
last  cheese  party  when  Rudi  was  so  badly  treated. 
But  now  he  would  surely  have  all  the  cheese  rolls 
to  himself,  and  so  it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  be 


100 


WITHOUT  A  FRIEND 


his  friend.  And  later  they  did  find  it  a  good  thing, 
for  Rudi  took  great  dehght  in  dividing  the  rich 
harvest  of  cheese  rolls  among  them  all.  He  never 
ceased  wondering  at  the  way  all  the  children  had 
changed  toward  him,  and  at  their  not  jeering  or 
laughing  at  him  any  more. 

When  he  got  over  being  afraid  of  people,  it 
turned  out,  to  the  surprise  of  all,  that  he  was  a 
very  apt,  nimble  little  fellow,  of  whom  every  one 
said,  *'  Either  he  is  not  the  same  boy,  or  else  we 
were  all  wrong  in  calling  him  *  Stupid  Rudi.'  " 


THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 


THE   LITTLE  RUNAWAY 


CHAPTER  I 


UNDER  THE   ALDERS 


The  Alders  is  the  name  of  an  estate  famed  for 
its  rich  fields  and  smiling  meadows  and  for  its 
wealth  of  luscious  fruits.  Apple  and  pear  trees 
stand  in  plenty  on  its  well-kept  fields,  and  if  the 
year  be  a  good  one  they  stand  at  harvest  time  with 
drooping  branches,  and  their  red  and  yellow  treas- 
ure gleams  from  afar  like  gold. 

At  some  distance  from  the  house  and  barn  lies 
the  great  pasture  land,  where  in  the  sunny  autumn 
days  eight  sleek  cows  graze  contentedly  upon  the 
fragrant  grass,  making  sweet  music  as  they  wander 
to  and  fro,  — for  each  cow  wears  a  little  bell  about 
her  neck.  Sometimes  the  whole  herd  starts  up 
together  into  lively  movement  ;  then  the  pleasant 

103 


104  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

sound  is  carried  far  down  into  the  valley  and  glad- 
dens the  heart  of  the  traveler  upon  the  highway 
below. 

Through  the  middle  of  the  pasture  runs  a  low 
stone  wall  that  marks  the  boundary  line  of  this 
farm  ;  for  the  land  beyond  belongs  to  the  estate 
of  Lindenhof.  Halfway  down  the  wall,  and  close 
beside  it,  stand  two  great  alder  trees  whose  sway- 
ing branches  cast  pleasant  shadows  on  the  wall  and 
give  the  estate  its  name  of  The  Alders. 

On  the  neighboring  farm  a  mighty  linden  tree 
has  stood  since  ancient  times.  It  guards  the  door- 
yard  and  spreads  its  branches  far  out  over  the 
farmhouse  and  the  big  stone  well.  From  it  the 
estate  takes  its  name  of  Lindenhof. 

These  two  farms,  though  not  especially  large, 
are  among  the  finest  of  all  those  that  lie  scattered 
over  the  mountain  side  in  the  parish  of  Buschweil. 

One  morning  in  September,  as  the  sun  lay  warm 
and  soft  on  the  wall,  a  little  girl  of  about  ten  years 
came  running  across  the  meadow.  In  her  right 
hand  she  carried  a  long  switch  ;  with  her  left  she 
was  holding  together  the  folds  of  her  apron,  care- 
fully guarding  something  within  that  seemed  to  be 
of  great  value,  for  she  would  stop  every  now  and 
then  to  open  the  folds,  peep  inside,  and  then  draw 
them  together  again  with  a  happy  smile. 


UNDER  THE  ALDERS  105 

When  she  reached  the  wall  she  stopped  and 
looked  over  into  the  neighboring  pasture.  Her  blue 
eyes  shone  forth  merrily  from  her  little  blond  head, 
wreathed  about  with  its  two  long  braids,  and  fresh 
and  pink  was  the  little  face  that  turned  expectantly 
from  side  to  side.  Disappointed  at  not  finding  any 
one  there,  the  little  girl  dropped  the  switch  from 
her  hand,  and,  reaching  into  her  apron,  brought 
forth  a  bright  red  apple,  which  she  set  upon  the 
wall.  Then  she  brought  out  another  and  another, 
and  still  others,  until  there  was  a  long  row  of  them. 

"  Ho  !  hey  !  Gretchen  !  "  came  a  lusty  cry  from 
below ;  then,  amid  noise  of  shouting,  tinkling  bells, 
and  fierce  snapping  of  a  whip,  a  boy  came  rushing 
up  the  slope.  The  cows  followed  with  noisy  ac- 
companiment, for  the  vigorous  whipsnapping  had 
brought  them  along  in  quite  a  tumult. 

''Why  are  you  so  late  ?  "  Gretchen  called  out  to 
the  boy. 

"  Because  I  —  I  had  —  there  were  so  many 
things  —  well,  I  really  don't  know  why  it  was." 

With  these  words  Renti  had  reached  the  wall  and 
now  stood  breathless  before  Gretchen,  who  had  seated 
herself  on  the  top  and  was  looking  down  at  him. 

"  Now  you  see  how  it  is,"  she  said ;  "  and  the  next 
time  I  am  late  you  must  be  patient.  You  find  that 
you  can't  always  get  here  when  you  wish." 


I06  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

"Yes,  you  are  right.  I  didn't  consider  before. 
And  then  it 's  always  so  stupid  here  until  you  come. 
Oh,  how  hot,  how  hot !  "  he  cried,  throwing  down 
his  whip  and  brushing  back  his  thick  brown  hair 
with  both  hands.  Then  he  stretched  out  full  length 
on  the  ground  and  gazed  up  into  the  blue  sky. 

Gretchen  smiled  down  from  her  cool  seat  under 
the  alders. 

'*  It  isn't  hot  at  all,  but  you  have  run  so  fast. 
Where  are  the  potatoes  ?  " 

Renti  pointed  to  a  sack  that  he  had  thrown 
down  beside  the  wall. 

"What  fine  apples  !  "  he  said,  raising  his  head  a 
little  and  looking  up  approvingly  at  the  big  red 
treasures  set  out  in  a  row.  Then  he  lay  down 
again,  turned  his  eyes  to  the  sky,  and  in  the  full- 
ness of  his  joy  began  to  whistle. 

Meanwhile  the  herds  were  grazing  peacefully  on 
both  sides  of  the  children.  The  gentle  tinkling  of 
bells  was  heard  here  and  there,  as  the  cows  wan- 
dered to  all  parts  of  the  meadow.  In  the  alder 
trees  the  birds  were  singing  gayly ;  a  fresh  mountain 
breeze  swayed  the  branches  and  now  and  then 
blew  away  some  of  the  leaves  that  Gretchen  had 
gathered  and  spread  out  in  her  lap.  She  was  weav- 
ing them  into  a  wreath  by  fastening  the  stem  of 
each  leaf  into  the  back  of  the  preceding  one.    This 


UNDER  THE  ALDERS  107 

made  a  dainty  little  garland,  for  the  leaves  that 
Gretchen  used  were  of  a  certain  delicate  kind.  She 
would  take  the  wreaths  home  afterward  and  lay 
them  in  the  hymn  book,  where  they  would  serve 
as  bookmarks  for  the  verses  she  was  to  learn  for 
Sunday  school. 

Occasionally  the  little  girl  would  look  up  from 
her  work  to  see  whether  her  eight  cows  were  all 
in  sight  and  grazing  properly,  neither  disturbing 
each  other  nor  being  disturbed  by  outside  causes. 
Gretchen  knew  all  her  cows  by  name  and  had  come 
to  know  the  character  and  peculiarities  of  each  one 
in  her  two  years  of  intimate  association  with  them, 
—  for  this  was  not  her  first  season  at  herding.  She 
had  been  to  pasture  with  them  in  the  previous 
summer  and  fall  and  had  herded  them  alone,  — 
that  is,  with  the  help  of  Renti,  who  was  always  on 
the  other  side.  At  least,  his  cows  were  there  ;  he 
himself  was  wherever  Gretchen  was,  —  on  the  wall, 
on  her  side  or  on  his. 

Renti  was  now  lying  unconcernedly  in  the  sunny 
grass,  not  paying  much  attention  to  his  cows,  for 
he  had  great  confidence  in  his  strength  and  quick- 
ness, should  anything  happen  among  them. 

Gretchen  had  looked  several  times  toward  one 
particular  spot,  where  two  of  the  cows  were  stand- 
ing in  a  rather  strange,  unnatural  manner ;   they 


I08  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

were  not  eating,  and  were  holding  their  heads  up 
in  the  air. 

*'  Renti,"  she  said,  '*  I  beUeve  there  is  something 
wrong.  Look  how  strangely  Star  and  Brownie  hold 
their  heads,  and  they  are  not  eating.  Now  Brindle 
is  beginning  to  act  frightened,  too.    Look,  Renti  !  " 

Renti  sprang  to  his  feet.  At  the  same  moment 
a  big,  terrible  head  appeared  over  the  brow  of  the 
hill  in  Gretchen's  field.  Then  the  rest  of  the 
animal  came  into  sight,  —  a  wild,  snorting  steer 
that  came  rushing  furiously  up  the  hill.  The  cows 
ran  about  in  terror.  The  bells  jangled  loud  and 
wild,  like  storm  bells.  Renti's  cows  now  began 
to  rush  about,  too. 

Gretchen  jumped  down  off  the  wall  to  Renti's  side. 
"O  Renti!  look,  look!  he  is  coming!  Where  shall 
we  go  .-^  "  she  cried,  pale  With  fright. 

Renti  made  one  leap  over  the  wall.  Then,  setting 
up  a  terrible  howl  and  roar,  as  though  he  were  him- 
self a  wild  beast,  he  charged  down  upon  the  steer, 
at  the  same  time  cracking  his  whip  as  hard  as  he 
could.  The  beast  came  on  with  increasing  fury; 
Renti  increased  his  noise. 

Then  the  creature  stopped,  stood  motionless. 
Renti  howled,  snapped  his  whip,  and  ran  toward 
him.  Suddenly  the  steer  turned  tail  and  galloped 
away.    Renti  dashed  after  him,  still  screaming  and 


T09 


no  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

raging  like  a  madman.  The  beast,  in  growing  ter- 
ror, ran  toward  the  steep  descent  that  led  to  the 
fields  of  Broadwood  Farm,  from  which  he  had 
escaped.  There  Renti  finally  stopped  and  turned 
back.  He  was  breathless  from  the  chase,  but  he 
came  back  on  a  run  to  Gretchen's  side.  As  she 
stood  there  waiting  for  him,  her  face  was  pale,  but 
her  blue  eyes  shone  bright  with  joy. 

"  Oh,  but  I  'm  glad  you  're  back,  Renti ! "  she  said 
with  a  deep  breath.  "  I  was  so  frightened  when  you 
went  after  him,  for  fear  he  would  catch  you  up  on 
his  horns  and  gore  you." 

*'  You  must  never  be  afraid,"  Renti  assured  her, 
breathless  and  almost  voiceless,  for  he  had  well-nigh 
split  his  lungs  with  his  screaming.  Suddenly  he 
laughed  aloud  as  he  thought  of  the  extraordinary 
leaps  the  creature  had  m?ide  in  terror  of  his  noise. 

"  What  if  I  had  been  alone  !  "  said  the  girl,  trem- 
bling anew  at  the  thought.  ''  If  you  had  not  been 
with  me,  where  could  I  have  taken  refuge  ?  He 
would  surely  have  caught  me  on  his  horns  and 
thrown  me  down  and  trampled  on  me !  Oh,  oh ! 
And  he  would  have  gored  the  cows  to  death,  too." 
And  Gretchen  trembled  anew  at  the  thought  of 
what  might  have  happened. 

**  Don't  be  afraid,  Gretchen ;  I  will  always  be  with 
you,"  Renti  said  reassuringly;  **  and  in  the  morning 


UNDER  THE   ALDERS  iii 

I  will  always  be  here  when  you  come.  Depend 
upon  it,  I  shan't  be  late  half  a  minute  ;  I  will  man- 
age somehow.  But  I  mean  to  tell  them  at  home 
what  happened  to-day,  and  they  will  send  word  to 
the  farmer  of  Broadwood  to  tie  up  his  steer  so 
that  he  can't  get  out  again  ;  so  don't  be  scared 
any  more." 

The  children  went  back  to  their  place  on  the  wall 
and  Gretchen  was  at  length  quieted  by  the  boy's 
assurances.  The  cows  were  grazing  again  with 
gentle,  tinkling  accompaniment,  and  everything 
round  about  them  seemed  so  quiet  and  peaceful 
that  before  long  the  children  had  forgotten  all 
about  the  disturbance. 

Now  the  sound  of  church  bells  came  floating  on 
the  wind  from  the  villages  round  about.  It  was 
eleven  o'clock,  the  hour  when  the  noon  bell  rings 
in  this  region,  the  signal  for  the  wives  at  work  in 
the  fields  to  shoulder  their  tools  and  go  home  to 
cook  dinner.  In  the  meadows  the  herd  boys  and 
girls  began  to  bestir  themselves,  and  here  and 
there  a  thin  wreath  of  smoke  arose.  As  it  curled 
up  into  the  blue  sky  gay  shouts  and  yodeling  went 
up  with  it. 

Renti  leaped  down  from  the  wall.  "Come,  it  is 
time  for  lunch !"  he  cried,  running  to  the  place  where 
he  had  laid  down  his  sack  and  bringing  it  forth. 


112  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

Gretchen,  with  dainty  care,  arranged  her  garlands 
on  the  top  of  the  wall,  placing  pebbles  on  them  so 
that  the  wind  might  not  blow  them  away ;  then  she 
jumped  down.  Renti  had  emptied  the  contents  of 
his  sack  on  the  ground.  There  lay  potatoes,  bits 
of  wood,  a  piece  of  cheese,  and  several  bricks,  all 
tossed  in  together. 

"You  ought  to  wrap  your  cheese  in  paper," 
Gretchen  told  him,  as  she  stooped  to  pick  it  up 
from  the  ground.  "  Look,  it  is  all  red  from  the 
bricks  and  covered  with  bits  of  wood." 

Taking  out  her  pocketknife,  she  scraped  away 
the  dirt,  while  Renti  looked  on  with  great  relief, 
for  the  red  and  black  speckled  mass  had  struck 
him  with  pained  surprise.  Then  Gretchen  drew  a 
little  package  from  her  pocket ;  that  was  her  piece 
of  cheese,  wrapped  in  a  clean,  stout  paper.  She 
opened  the  parcel  and,  pfacing  Renti's  piece  with 
her  own,  laid  them  together  on  the  wall. 

"  What  are  the  bricks  for  ?  "  asked  Gretchen. 

"To  make  a  better  fire.  See;  we'll  build  a 
hearth  with  them."  And  Renti  arranged  his  five 
bricks  to  form  a  sort  of  fireplace  on  the  ground. 
Then  he  carefully  heaped  up  chips  inside  and  lighted 
them.  The  flame  leaped  up  in  an  instant  and  filled 
the  fireplace  and  Renti  had  to  hunt  about  for  more 
chips  to  keep  the  fire  going.    When  the  big  flames 


UNDER   THE  ALDERS 


had  subsided  and  only  single  little  tongues  came  out 
here  and  there  from  the  ashes,  Gretchen  approached 
and  carefully  laid  the  potatoes  in  the  embers,  each 
one  in  a  good  glowing  spot ;  and  wherever  the 
ashes  seemed  to  be  turning  gray,  Renti  blew  upon 
them  with  all  his  might  until  they  glowed  again. 
He  kept  putting  on  dry  grass  and  chips,  so  that  the 
flames  continued  to  burn  between  the  potatoes. 

Gretchen  watched  the  crackling  embers  very 
earnestly.  Renti  had  to  run  off  to  one  side  every 
now  and  then  to  cool  his  face,  for  with  the  blowing 
and  poking  it  had  become  almost  as  hot  as  the  fire. 
After  some  time  Gretchen  said,  '*  There,  now  they 
are  ready.    Have  you  the  shingle,  Renti  .-*" 

"Yes,  here  it  is,"  he  answered,  as  he  drew  forth 
a  little  board  and  also  a  long  willow  wand  from 
under  the  sack.  The  supple  willow  twig  had  been 
bent  down  from  the  top  and  fastened  upon  itself 
with  a  thread,  so  that  it  made  a  loop.  With  this 
the  children  drew  out  one  potato  after  another  from 
the  fire,  sliding  them  onto  the  shingle  and  then  to 
the  top  of  the  wall. 

When  all  the  potatoes  had  been  laid  out  in  a  row 
on  the  wall,  Gretchen  looked  about  for  a  comfortable 
seat,  where  the  shadow  of  the  alders  was  thickest, 
for  now  the  sun  was  in  the  zenith  and  poured  down 
with  considerable  warmth  from  the  cloudless  sky. 


THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 


**  Come,  Renti ;  up  here  it  is  fine,"  she  said,  as  she 
settled  herself  and  laid  out  beside  her  some  large 
leaves  that  she  had  gathered.  Renti  was  by  her 
side  in  a  moment,  and  then  they  sat  and  watched 
the  little  clouds  of  gray  steam  rise  from  the  pota- 
toes and  float  off  on  the  wind.  But  now  they  had 
waited  long  enough;  Gretchen  took  up  one  potato 
after  another  and  rubbed  off  the  charred  outer  layer 
with  one  of  the  big  leaves  that  she  had  at  hand. 
She  was  careful,  however,  to  save  the  crisp  brown 
skin,  for  that  was  the  part  they  liked  best  of  all. 
Then  their  noonday  meal  began.  The  children  sat 
up  on  their  little  elevation  with  a  potato  in  one  hand 
and  a  piece  of  cheese  in  the  other,  taking  delicious 
bites  now  from  one,  now  from  the  other.  Overhead 
the  birds  were  singing  in  the  alder  branches ;  across 
the  meadow  lay  the  golden  sunshine;  and  in  the 
grass  at  their  feet  the  blue  harebells  tossed  merrily 
in  the  breeze. 

"Gretchen,"  said  Renti,  taking  alternate  bites 
from  his  right,  then  from  his  left  hand,  "would 
you  rather  be  a  king  and  sit  on  a  throne  and 
wear  a  golden  crown  on  your  head,  or  would  you 
rather  sit  on  the  stone  wall  in  the  alder  shade 
and  eat  baked  potatoes  and  Hsten  to  the  birds' 
singing.?" 

Gretchen  hesitated. 


UNDER  THE  ALDERS  115 

"  Well,"  she  said,  after  some  reflection,  "  a  king 
can  have  whatever  he  wishes;  so,  besides  having 
everything  else,  he  could  still  sit  on  the  wall  and 
eat  baked  potatoes  whenever  he  pleased." 

"No,  he  couldn't;  that  wouldn't  be  proper;  a 
king  must  always  sit  on  his  throne,"  declared  Renti. 
"But  I  know  "  — and  in  his  ardor  Renti  raised  his 
fist  high  in  the  air  and  thumped  it  down  on  his  knee 
—  "I'd  a  thousand,  thousand  times  rather  sit  here 
than  be  a  king  on  a  throne,  for  he  could  have 
nothing  better  than  we  have  here." 

"  Yes,  yes ;  it  is  true,"  Gretchen  agreed.  "  I  like 
it  best  here,  too." 

"  I  'm  sure  you  do.  Oh,  how  good  this  potato 
tastes !  and  do  you  hear  that  finch .?" 

Renti  tried  to  imitate  the  bird's  whistle.  Then 
he  took  another  bite  of  potato,  but  being  obliged  to 
express  his  happiness  in  some  way,  he  beat  time  to 
the  bird's  melody  by  kicking  his  feet  against  the 
wall.  "  Surely  this  is  the  loveliest  spot  in  all  the 
world.  Where  could  it  be  finer  ?  Or  do  you  think 
it  may  be  more  beautiful  in  heaven.?" 

"  Yes,  of  course,"  replied  Gretchen  positively ; 
"  where  all  the  beautiful  white  angels  are,  with  lilies 
in  their  hands." 

"  I  don't  believe  it  is.  Among  so  many  strange 
people  we'd  be  afraid  and  shouldn't  know  how  to 


Il6  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

behave;  I'm  sure  it  wouldn't  be  nearly  so  nice  as 
it  is  here,  where  we  two  are  alone  together  and  can 
do  just  as  we  please,  and  are  masters  of  the  whole 
meadow  and  of  the  cows  and  everything.  No,  I'm 
sure  it  isn't  so  nice  anywhere  on  earth  or  in  heaven." 

But  Gretchen  was  not  easily  convinced. 

"  You  have  never  been  to  heaven  and  can't  be  at 
all  sure  about  it,"  she  declared.  ''But  come,  let's 
have  the  apples  now." 

The  first  part  of  the  meal,  the  more  substantial 
portion,  was  now  over,  and  as  it  had  been  of  a  rather 
dry  nature  it  had  made  the  children  very  thirsty ;  so 
the  juicy,  sourish  apples  tasted  most  delicious,  and 
disappeared  so  fast  that  soon  there  were  only  two 
left.  A  few  more  bites  finished  these,  too,  and  then 
Renti  made  himself  comfortable  on  the  wall  and  said, 
''  That  was  the  best  dinner  that  any  person  could 
have."    And  Gretchen  agreed  with  him  perfectly. 

The  afternoon  brought  a  number  of  unexpected 
happenings.  Star  and  Brindle  got  into  a  quarrel 
because  both  wanted  to  graze  in  exactly  the  same 
spot.  They  began  to  horn  each  other  and  the  chil- 
dren had  to  run  down  and  separate  them.  Then  they 
kept  them  grazing  in  different  parts  of  the  pasture 
for  a  while  until  the  cows  had  got  over  their  quar- 
relsome mood.  Later  Renti  saw  that  Molly,  the 
slender  black  one  of  his  herd,  was  bounding  across 


UNDER  THE  ALDERS  117 

the  pasture  toward  the  hedge  beyond,  and  three  or 
four  of  the  others,  seeing  her,  started  in  pursuit. 
The  whole  herd  seemed  about  to  follow  their  exam- 
ple. Renti  started  after  them  with  loud  "Ho  !  "  and 
'*Hey!"  and  turned  them  back  just  before  they 
reached  the  hedge,  where  they  seemed  to  have  no 
intention  of  stopping,  although  the  high  jump  would 
certainly  have  had  disastrous  results  for  them.  On 
the  other  side  of  the  hedge  the  grass  had  been  cut 
and  was  spread  out  in  the  sun  to  dry.  It  had  wafted 
such  tempting  odors  to  Molly's  nostrils  that  she  had 
started  off  on  a  run  to  follow  up  the  scent. 

So  one  thing  after  another  happened  during  the 
afternoon  to  keep  the  children  busy.  The  cows 
were  healthy  and  well  fed,  and  toward  evening, 
when  they  were  no  longer  hungry,  they  were  sub- 
ject to  all  sorts  of  whims  and  notions  that  the  chil- 
dren had  difficulty  in  restraining.  When  the  herd 
on  one  side  was  quiet  something  would  happen  in 
the  other  field,  and  the  children  ran  back  and  forth, 
for  they  always  helped  each  other.  It  was  much 
pleasanter  to  do  together  whatever  had  to  be  done. 

Meanwhile  the  sun  had  moved  far  on  toward  even- 
ing and  was  about  to  set.  The  mountains  began 
to  redden  and  all  the  little  hills  around  seemed 
covered  with  gold.  Suddenly  a  loud  tooting  sound 
was   heard,  first   on  the  right   hand,  then  on  the 


THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 


left,  then  from  varying  distances.  It  was  the  sig- 
nal, blown  forth  on  immense  horns,  to  the  herd 
boys  and  girls  that  it  was  time  to  bring  the  herds 
home  for  milking.  And  the  cows  seemed  to  know 
the  sound,  for  they  gathered  in  a  group  from  all 
sides  of  the  pasture  and  stood  waiting. 

"Good  night,  Renti!"  "Good  night,  Gretchen!" 
the  children  called  to  each  other. 

Renti,  with  three  or  four  bounds,  landed  in  the 
middle  of  his  herd,  and  cracking  his  whip  and 
yodeling  at  the  top  of  his  voice,  he  ran  on  toward 
the  Lindenhof  stables. 

Gretchen  gathered  up  the  two  Httle  garlands  she 
had  made  and  spread  them  out  on  the  palm  of  her 
hand ;  then  she,  too,  moved  on  toward  home,  accom- 
panied almost  to  her  door  by  Renti's  loud  yodeling. 


CHAPTER   II 


THE   TWO   FARMS 


The  house  at  Lindenhof  had  a  big,  comfortable 
living  room,  with  a  green  Dutch-tiled  stove  in  the 
middle  and  wooden  benches  all  along  the  walls. 
Around  the  stove  there  was  also  a  bench,  where 
an  old  gray  cat  usually  lay  purring  lazily.  Wide 
steps,  that  were  like  many  little  benches  set  over 
one  another,  led  upstairs  to  the  sleeping  rooms.  In 
this  way  there  was  abundant  opportunity  for  sit- 
ting down  in  any  part  of  the  room,  and  this  gave 
the  place  an  air  of  ease  and  comfort. 

The  farmer  and  his  wife  had  two  daughters,  one 
twenty,  the  other  nineteen  years  old ;  but  they  were 
no  longer  at  home,  both  having  married  in  the  previ- 
ous summer,  one  soon  after  the  other.  They  had 
both  married  well,  for  the  young  farmers  whom  they 
had  taken  to  husband  had  farms  of  their  own  and 
were  comfortably  established.  Now  the  father  and 
mother  were  by  themselves  again,  as  in  the  begin- 
ning.   At  first  they  kept  only  one  hired  man,  for 

119 


120  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

the  husband  said,  ''We'd  better  hire  day  laborers 
in  the  busy  season,  and  then  be  alone  the  rest  of 
the  time,  than  to  keep  several  men  in  the  house." 

And  the  wife  said:  ''I  think  so,  too.  I- do  not 
like  the  tramp  of  heavy  boots  about  the  house." 

So  the  household  went  on  in  its  old  quiet  way, 
and  still  the  work  was  properly  done. 

But  when  autumn  came  the  farmer  said:  '*We 
must  have  a  herd  boy.  The  hired  man  cannot  sit 
out  in  the  meadow  all  day  when  there  is  so  much 
work  still  to  be  done,  and  yet  we  cannot  leave  the 
cows  out  in  the  pasture  all  alone." 

And  the  wife  said :  *'  That  would  suit  me  very 
well;  for  a  nimble  little  boy  would  often  be  handy 
for  me  in  the  work  about  the  kitchen,  the  well, 
and  the  shed.  He  might  look  after  the  chickens, 
too ;  I  cannot  call  the  man  for  all  these  little 
services." 

"Then  I  will  go  and  get  one,"  said  the  farmer, 
reaching  for  his  coat  and  his  heavy  cane.  The 
alms  commissioner  always  knew  of  boys  to  hire ; 
he  would  go  to  him. 

Now  it  happened  that  on  that  very  day  the 
butcher  had  sent  his  delivery  boy  to  the  commis- 
sioner with  a  message  that  a  new  place  should  be 
found  for  the  boy,  as  he  himself  had  bought  a  cart 
and  would  have  no  more  need  of  him. 


THE  TWO   FARMS  I2I 

This  boy  was  Renti.  He  was  quite  alone  in  the 
world,  having  neither  father  nor  mother  nor  any 
one  else  who  belonged  to  him.  Where  he  had  come 
from  no  one  knew. 

Nine  years  before,  on  Laurentius  Day,  a  tiny 
baby  boy,  wrapped  in  a  coarse  cloth,  had  been  left 
on  the  doorstep  of  the  church.  The  sexton,  com- 
ing to  ring  the  bell  for  evening  prayers,  had  found 
a  bundle  at  the  door,  and  on  discovering  that  it  con- 
tained a  living  child  he  had  taken  it  to  the  pastor. 
On  the  following  Sunday  the  little  boy  was  bap- 
tized, and  received  the  name  of  Laurence  in  honor 
of  the  saint  on  whose  day  he  had  been  found. 
Then  he  was  intrusted  to  the  care  of  the  old  wash- 
erwoman Katrina,  who  kept  him  clean  and  decent 
as  long  as  she  lived.  But  she  died  after  a  few 
years,  and  then  Renti  passed  from  one  hand  to 
another.  Sometimes  he  was  treated  kindly,  some- 
times quite  otherwise  ;  up  to  the  time  of  his  tenth 
year  he  had  never  known  how  it  felt  to  have  a 
home,  for  he  had  never  been  kept  more  than  a  year 
in  one  place.  In  the  last  few  years,  since  he  had 
been  able  to  do  light  work,  he  had  gone  to  a  new 
place  almost  every  three  months,  wherever  people 
happened  to  have  need  of  him. 

When  the  farmer  of  Lindenhof  arrived  at  the 
commissioner's,    the    latter  was    at   his    door   and 


122  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

Renti  was  standing  before  him  delivering  the  mes- 
sage from  the  butcher. 

The  farmer  did  not  notice  the  boy  especially, 
but  began  at  once  to  state  his  wants,  whereupon 
the  commissioner  drew  Renti  forward  and  said : 
"  You  have  come  at  an  opportune  time.  Here  is  a 
boy  ready  to  go  right  home  with  you.  And  he 
will  do  what  is  right,  won't  you,  Renti  ? " 

The  boy  nodded  his  head.  There  was  something 
about  him  that  the  farmer  liked. 

"Then  come  along,"  said  the  farmer. 

So  Renti  trotted  along  beside  him.  Barefooted, 
with  no  other  clothes  than  the  little  jean  trousers 
and  coarse  shirt  he  had  on, —  for  his  little  jerkin 
had  fallen  into  rags,  —  Renti  entered  upon  his  life 
at  Lindenhof. 

The  farmer's  wife  looked  out  in  surprise  when 
she  saw  her  husband  returning  so  soon  with  a  boy. 
She  scrutinized  the  newcomer  more  carefully  than 
her  husband  had,  for  she  knew  the  boy  would  be  with 
her  a  great  deal  of  the  time,  and  she  was  particular 
as  to  the  people  she  had  about  her.  Renti  had  big 
brown  eyes  that  looked  out  upon  the  world  and  its 
people  with  open,  frank  gaze.  Thick  brown  hair 
waved  about  his  brow.    The  woman  liked  him. 

"  I  *11  manage  somehow  about  his  clothes,"  she 
said  to  herself,  for  she  surmised  that  the  garments 
he  had  on  were  his  only  ones. 


THE  TWO   FARMS  123 

On  the  following  morning  Renti  was  at  once 
sent  out  to  take  the  cows  to  pasture.  There  he 
met  Gretchen,  who  had  but  a  few  days  before  been 
initiated  into  the  duties  of  herding  and  who  was 
very  glad  to  find  that  she  was  to  have  a  companion. 

Into  this  new  life  for  Renti  there  came  a  joy 
that  he  had  never  known  before,  —  he  had  found  a 
home.  Out  on  the  sunny  meadow,  under  the  alders 
with  Gretchen,  the  boy  was  happy.  Joy  shone  in 
his  eyes  from  morning  till  night,  and  when  he  was 
not  talking  to  Gretchen  he  had  to  express  his 
happiness  in  singing  or  yodeUng. 

The  farmer's  wife  was  kind  to  him.  She  had 
a  neat  suit  —  trousers  and  jacket  —  made  for  him 
for  Sundays,  and  a  white  shirt  to  go  with  it.  Then 
she  taught  him  to  wash  carefully  at  the  well  every 
morning,  and  he  was  pleased  and  willing  about  it 
all,  for  he  himself  liked  to  look  neat.  In  his  little 
room  there  was  a  real  bed,  such  as  he  had  never 
had  before,  and  no  one  was  ever  cross  to  him  now, 
as  his  former  masters  and  mistresses  had  often 
been.  So  Renti  was  as  happy  as  the  birds  in  the 
air,  and  his  whistling  stopped  only  with  their  own 
songs,  and  probably  would  have  continued  all  night 
if  the  housewife  had  continued  her  demands  for 
wood  and  water  that  long.  He  always  did  the 
kitchen   erra*nds  at  night,  for  the  housewife  was 


124  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

systematic  and  wanted  everything  made  ready  for 
the  next  morning. 

Often  when  the  boy's  whistle  was  heard  at  night 
in  the  stable,  the  shed,  or  the  henhouse,  the  farmer, 
hearing  it,  would  say  :  "  Do  send  the  boy  to  bed. 
His  workday  should  be  over  by  this  time." 

But  the  wife  would  answer :  ''Work  never  hurts 
any  one  ;  he  gets  sleep  enough,  and  his  whistling 
shows  that  he  is  not  unhappy." 

Then  the  farmer  was  satisfied,  and  his  wife  was 
glad  that  she  could  have  her  own  way  with  the  boy, 
and  that  he  was  cheerful  and  content.  When  win- 
ter came  she  proposed  that  they  keep  him,  for  she 
would  have  work  for  him  when  he  was  not  in 
school,  and  when  spring  came  and  they  had  to  take 
laborers  she  would  have  extra  work  in  the  kitchen 
and  would  find  the  boy  very  useful.  The  work  of 
carrying  meals  to  the  field  hands  three  times  a  day 
was  alone  worth  keeping  him  for. 

In  his  various  duties  the  b5y  was  often  with 
Gretchen,  for  she  had  many  of  the  same  tasks  as 
he  had,  and  the  two  estates  ran  side  by  side.  In 
the  summer  the  children  were  sent  to  the  fields 
to  glean  after  the  harvesters.  They  had  discovered 
that  it  was  much  pleasanter  to  do  this  work  to- 
gether, first  in  one  field,  then  in  the  other,  than 
to  do  it  alone.    So  it  was  with  many  of  their  tasks. 


I 


THE   TWO   FARMS  125 

and  they  were  much  together.  But  they  were  hap- 
piest when  autumn  came  and  they  were  sent  to 
pasture  with  the  herds.  Renti  had  become  so 
famihar  with  the  Hfe  at  Lindenhof  that  he  knew 
every  cow  by  looks  and  disposition ;  he  had  become 
so  well  acquainted  with  the  hens  that  he  could  pick 
out  any  egg  and  tell  just  where  and  when  it  had 
been  laid.  It  took  close  watching  to  keep  track  of 
the  eggs,  for  the  hens  liked  to  lay  in  secret  places. 
Every  creature,  large  or  small,  that  belonged  to  the 
farm  was  more  familiar  to  Renti  than  to  the  farmer 
himself,  or  to  any  hired  man  that  they  had  ever  had 
on  the  place. 

At  The  Alders  life  went  on  in  the  same  quiet, 
orderly  way  as  at  Lindenhof.  In  fact,  there  had 
always  been  great  similarity  in  the  manner  of  run- 
ning the  two  farms.  In  the  stables  there  were 
always  eight  cows,  and  if  either  of  the  farmers  had 
seen  fit  to  have  nine,  then  there  would  have  been 
no  sleep  for  the  other  until  he,  too,  had  nine  cows 
in  his  stall  ;  for  it  was  an  old  custom  to  have 
everything  alike  on  the  two  farms. 

The  farmers  were  the  best  of  neighbors,  however, 
and  there  never  was  a  thought  of  unpleasant  rivalry 
between  them.  Each  was  content  to  have  everything 
remain  just  as  it  had  always  been  in  the  fathers'  and 
grandfathers'  and  great-grandfathers'  time. 


126  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

It  had  happened,  strangely  enough,  that  on  both 
occasions  when  there  was  a  christening  party  at 
Lindenhof  there  was  one  on  the  same  Sunday  at 
The  Alders,  —  with  this  difference,  however,  that 
the  babies  christened  at  Lindenhof  were  both  girls, 
while  at  The  Alders  they  were  boys.  Hannes  had 
come  first,  and  then,  a  year  later,  Uli,  — ^the  boys 
being  now  in  their  twentieth  and  nineteenth  years. 
But  the  most  important  difference  between  the  two 
households  was,  that  while  the  number  of  children 
at  Lindenhof  remained  at  two,  a  third  child  had 
come  to  the  other  family  years  afterward.  A  little 
girl  had  made  a  late  but  by  no  means  unwelcome 
appearance,  proving  a  great  joy  to  the  family  as  the 
years  went  on.  She  was  sweet  to  look  upon  and 
did  credit  to  the  careful  training  of  her  parents,  for 
they  were  proper  people,  both  of  the  opinion  that 
their  first  care  should  be  to  educate  their  children 
to  a  decent,  orderly  life. 

Regularly  on  Sundays  the  family  might  all  be 
seen  going  to  church  together,  —  father  and  mother 
in  advance,  with  little  Gretchen  between  them,  and 
Hannes  and  Uli  behind,  all  in  their  Sunday  clothes 
and  all  looking  so  neat  and  honest  that  it  warmed 
the  pastor's  heart  to  see  them  filing  into  church. 

As  little  Gretchen  grew  along  in  this  well-ordered 
life  she  won  the  heart  of  every  one;  for  she  was 


I 


THE   TWO    FARMS  12/ 

pleasant  and  courteous  at  all  times  and  sweet  to 
look  upon,  with  her  bright,  laughing  eyes,  blue  as 
the  cornflowers,  and  her  long,  blond  braids  like 
the  golden  grain  above  them. 

When  she  had  reached  her  ninth  year  her  father 
said  one  day :  "Gretchen  is  old  enough,  I  believe,  to 
herd  the  cows  this  year,  and  we  might  get  along 
without  a  boy.  It  is  hard  to  find  one  whom  you 
can  trust,  and  Gretchen  is  a  sensible  child  and  the 
cows  are  all  gentle." 

The  mother  thought  that  they  might  at  least  try 
it.  Uli  would,  of  course,  go  with  her  for  the  first 
day  to  see  that  she  got  along  without  any  trouble, 
and  was  not  afraid,  —  for  she  was  a  slight  little 
thing,  to  be  sure,  to  take  care  of  the  cows  all 
alone. 

Gretchen  herself  liked  the  idea  of  going,  and  Uli 
said  :  "  She  need  not  be  timid.  Our  neighbors  have 
a  herd  boy  who  seems  gentler  than  most  boys,  and 
I  will  tell  him  to  look  after  her." 

So  Gretchen  started  out  a  few  days  later,  accom- 
panied by  UK.  In  the  neighboring  pasture  Renti 
was  already  at  his  post.  Uli  called  him  to  the 
stone  wall  and  made  him  understand  that  if  any- 
thing should  happen  among  the  cows  he  must  come 
to  Gretchen* s  assistance.  In  return  he  should  have 
plums  and  nuts  when  they  came  in  season. 


THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 


Now  Renti  needed  only  this  to  complete  his 
happiness,  —  to  have  a  companion  in  the  meadow, 
—  and  by  the  end  of  the  first  day  the  children  were 
such  good  friends  that  the  boy  would  have  gone 
through  fire  and  water  for  Gretchen's  sake.  A 
more  faithful  protector  could  not  have  been  found 
for  her. 

So  the  children  passed  the  autumn  season  in 
daily  companionship.  When  winter  came  they  went 
back  and  forth  to  school  together  twice  a  day. 
Sundays  they  invariably  spent  together,  for  Renti 
was  treated  as  a  neighbor  because  he  belonged  to 
the  household  at  Lindenhof.  So  he  went  to  The 
Alders  every  Sunday  afternoon  and  stayed  with 
Gretchen  until  supper-time,  —  that  had  become  a 
matter  of  course.  And  every  Sunday  afternoon 
had  slipped  by  so  fast  that  when  it  was  over  they 
wished  it  were  just  beginning;  they  hadn't  had 
time  for  half  their  plans  and  projects.  Renti  was 
skillful  at  carving  wooden  whistles  and  making  lan- 
terns out  of  pumpkins,  and  Gretchen  had  a  supply 
of  colored  paper  from  which  they  manufactured 
whole  cities,  including  the  inhabitants,  and  boats 
with  movable  oars,  and  churches,  and  houses  with 
swinging  windows. 

Then  came  the  work  of  spring  and  summer,  and 
the  children  met  continually  in  the  fields.    When 


t 


THE   TWO   FARMS  1 29 

they  were  not  together  each  knew  exactly  where 
the  other  was,  what  he  or  she  was  doing,  and  when 
they  would  meet  agam. 

Now  autumn  had  come  and  the  children  were 
enjoying  happy  days  in  the  meadow.  There  had 
been  but  few  rainy  days  to  keep  Gretchen  at 
home,  for  the  season  had  been  unusually  fair.  In 
wet  weather  Renti  had  to  wander  about  alone,  with 
a  feed  sack  wrapped  about  his  shoulders  to  keep  off 
the  rain.  On  such  days  he  took  care  of  Uli's  cows 
also,  after  the  latter  had  brought  them  to  pasture 
in  the  morning.  In  this  way  he  kept  his  pockets 
full  of  nuts.  When  Gretchen  came  out  on  the 
next  day  there  was  always  a  great  deal  to  talk 
over,  about  how  the  cows  had  behaved,  about  the 
little  birds  in  the  alders  and  how  they  had  crept 
into  their  nests,  and  about  the  big  crows  that  had 
suddenly  swooped  down  on  the  pasture,  croaking 
so  hideously  that  Brindle,  in  sheer  terror,  had  run 
right  into  their  midst,  whereupon  the  whole  flock 
started  up  and  flapped  about,  frightening  Brindle 
still  more,  so  that  she  went  galloping  wildly  about, 
and  Renti  had  to  catch  her  and  stroke  her  head 
until  she  became  quiet. 

All  these  incidents  were  the  subject  of  earnest 
conversation  when  the  children  were  together  once 
more  under  the  alders.     So  the  days  passed,  and 


I30  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

there  were  no  happier  children  in  all  the  country 
round  than  Renti  and  Gretchen. 

October  came,  and  the  bright,  sunny  weather 
continued  until  past  the  middle  of  the  month,  so 
that  the  children  still  remained  in  the  meadow  all 
day  without  feeling  cold,  —  only  they  went  home 
rather  early  in  the  evening.  On  a  Saturday  after- 
noon of  the  third  week  black  clouds  began  to  pile 
up  in  the  sky  and  the  children  started  for  home  at 
four  o'clock.  A  sudden  darkness  had  come  on,  and 
a  violent  downpour  of  rain,  or  perhaps  hail,  seemed 
about  to  break  forth.  Gretchen  was  quite  downcast, 
for  she  feared  that  snow  and  cold  weather  would  now 
set  in  and  put  an  end  to  the  herding.  But  Renti 
was  hopeful  and  thought  that  winter  was  still  a 
long  way  off.  Monday  would  be  fair  again,  he  said, 
and  they  would  come  out  as  usual. 

They  bade  each  other  good  night  and  hurried 
home  with  their  herds,  for  the  first  drops  had 
begun  to  fall  and  the  sky  was  growing  darker  and 
darker.  Renti,  after  reaching  the  barn  and  tying 
the  cows  in  their  stalls,  scrambled  about  in  all  the 
corners,  as  he  did  every  evening,  to  find  the  eggs. 
Presently  he  heard  a  furious  storm  beating  down 
upon  the  barn.  The  rain  and  hail  and  wind  were 
almost  crushing  the  roof.  He  stood  in  the  barn 
door  holding  the  eggs  in  his  cap,  for  he  was  afraid 


THE  TWO   FARMS  131 

they  would  be  broken  by  the  hail  if  he  started  for 
the  house. 

While  he  stood  there  the  farmer  was  looking  out 
of  the  kitchen  window  at  the  storm.  His  wife  was 
blowing  the  fire  that  had  several  times  been  put 
out  by  the  wind  and  rain.  The  farmer  watched  the 
gusts  sweep  by  and  said :  ''  I  have  been  expect- 
ing this.  I  've  seen  it  coming  for  some  time.  It  is 
hard  on  the  fruit  trees.  Well,  this  makes  an  end 
of  autumn  and  we  may  look  for  cold  weather. 
The  farmer  of  Broad  wood  told  me  to-day  that  he 
wants  a  boy  for  the  winter.  He  means  to  get 
along  with  one  hired  man  and  a  boy,  for  he  has 
his  two  sons  to  help  him.  So  I  told  him  he  might 
have  Renti." 

''  You  did  !  "  exclaimed  the  woman.  She  stopped 
blowing  the  fire  and  looked  around  at  him.  ''Why 
did  you  tell  him  that  ?  Shall  I  do  my  work  alone 
all  winter  merely  to  let  the  farmer  of  Broadwood 
have  a  good  boy.'*  " 

*'  No,  no,"  said  the  farmer  in  conciliatory  tones; 
*'  I  had  no  such  thought.  On  the  contrary,  you 
are  to  have  better  help  than  you  have  now,  —  a 
young  fellow  wh^  is  stronger  than  Renti  and  can 
be  of  more  use  to  you.  I  have  a  great  deal  of 
wood  to  cut  this  winter  and  shall  need  an  extra 
hand.    A  young  fellow  of   seventeen  or  eighteen 


132  THE   LITTLE  RUNAWAY 

can  do  my  work  and  can  also  help  you  in  the 
kitchen.     I  have  my  eye  on  one." 

"  I  was  satisfied  with  Renti,"  said  the  wife ;  **  but 
if  you  need  an  older  hand  we  must  give  up  the  boy, 
for  we  do  not  need  three  servants."  Then  after  a 
moments  he  added:  ''If  Renti  must  leave  us,  I  am 
glad  that  he  is  to  have  a  good  place.  I  should  n't 
like  to  send  him  away  without  knowing  what  sort 
of  people  he  goes  to,  but  the  household  at  Broad- 
wood  is  well  managed.  But  whom  will  you  get  in 
his  place.?  I  hope  it  will  be  some  one  fit  to  have 
in  the  kitchen." 

'*  Yes,  he  will  do  very  well,"  said  the  farmer. 
*'  He  is  young  enough  to  do  little  errands  about 
the  house  and  kitchen,  but  at  the  same  time  strong 
and  sturdy.  For  carrying  wood  and  water  he  will 
be  better  than  a  little  boy.  To-morrow  he  is  to 
come  along  this  way,  and  if  we  wish  him  to,  he 
will  stay.  They  will  expect  Renti  at  Broadwood 
to-morrow  evening." 

The  wife  thought  this  was  hurrying  matters 
somewhat,  but  her  husband  explained  that  as  the 
herding  season  was  now  ended  the  wood  felling 
might  as  well  begin  at  once.         • 

So  they  decided  to  let  Renti  go  on  the  morrow 
and  to  keep  the  young  man  when  he  came,  for  the 
wife  remembered,  after  her  husband  had  mentioned 


THE   TWO   FARMS  I  33 

the  youth's  name  and  described  him  somewhat,  that 
she  had  seen  him  once  or  twice,  and  that  he  came  of 
a  decent  family  in  one  of  the  neighboring  parishes. 

The  storm  had  now  abated  and  the  farmer  went 
out  to  see  that  everything  was  in  order  for  the 
night.  At  the  same  time  Renti  came  running  into 
the  kitchen  with  eager,  happy  face,  holding  out  a 
cap  full  of  eggs  toward  the  housewife. 

''What  a  boy  you  are  to  find  nests  !  "  she  said, 
as  she  bustled  about  the  hearth.  "  To-morrow  you 
are  to  go  to  Broadwood,  Renti.  There  you  will 
have  plenty  of  eggs  to  hunt,  for  they  keep  a  large 
flock  of  chickens,  the  finest  in  this  whole  region." 

Renti  stared  at  the  woman  and  almost  dropped 
the  eggs  from  his  hand,  but  he  did  not  utter  a  word. 

"Lay  the  eggs  on  the  table,"  said  the  woman; 
*'  I  have  n't  time  to  put  them  away  now ;  and 
bring  in  a  stick  of  wood.  You  need  n't  go  for 
water  while  it  rains  so  hard.  Then  come  in  to 
supper." 

Renti  laid  down  his  cap  and  went  out  to  the 
shed.  He  was  paralyzed  by  the  news  he  had  just 
heard  ;  he  could  scarcely  lift  the  stick  of  wood, 
although  he  usually  carried  such  a  burden  on  a  run. 

The  housewife  looked  at  him  questioningly.  "  I 
believe  you  are  tired,  Renti.  Come,  eat  your  supper 
and  then  go  right  to  bed." 


134  THE   LITTLE  RUNAWAY 

At  the  table  Renti  never  once  looked  up,  and 
for  the  first  time  since  he  came  to  Lindenhof  he 
had  no  appetite. 

"  He  is  tired  ;  I  noticed  it  awhile  ago,  "said  the 
wife  in  answer  to  her  husband's  puzzled  look,  —  for 
the  boy's  spoon  was  not  traveling  back  and  forth 
in  its  usual  way,  in  and  out  of  the  big  bowl  of 
sour  milk. 

"  Pshaw  !  that  would  n't  take  away  his  appetite," 
said  the  farmer. 

But  Renti  could  not  swallow  his  supper. 

*'  Perhaps  the  storm  oppresses  him.  Let  him  go 
to  bed,"  said  the  farmer. 

*'Yes,  yes;  you'd  better  go  to  bed,"  said  the 
wife  in  friendly  tones.  *'  I  will  look  after  the  shoes 
myself.  Go  and  have  one  more  good  sleep  in  your 
comfortable  bed." 

Renti  crept  upstairs  to  his  dear  little  room.  He 
felt  as  though  a  heavy  weight  were  upon  him ;  he 
could  hardly  breathe.  But  after  he  was  in  bed  and 
everything  about  him  seemed  just  the  same  as  it  had 
always  been,  and  always  must  be,  he  thought,  he 
breathed  more  easily.  Something  would  surely  hap- 
pen overnight  to  straighten  the  matter  out.  When 
things  had  gone  on  so  long  and  so  smoothly  without 
change,  they  could  not  all  be  upset  in  one  night.  And 
with  this  thought  Renti  finally  fell  asleep. 


THE  TWO   FARMS  1 35 


Next  morning,  as  the  farmer  and  his  wife  returned 
from  church,  Renti  came  out  of  the  barn  to  meet 
them  as  usual.  On  Sunday  mornings,  when  he  had 
plenty  of  time  to  scramble  about  all  the  corners 
of  the  barn,  he  always  made  new  discoveries  in 
the  way  of  hidden  nests. 

"  Now  go  and  put  on  your  Sunday  clothes, 
Renti,"  said  the  wife.  ''After  dinner  you  may  run 
over  to  The  Alders  and  tell  them  '  God  keep  you,' 
for  you  probably  won't  see  them  again  for  some 
time.  It  is  a  long  way  to  Broadwood.  Then  you 
must  come  home  for  a  timely  start,  so  that  you 
will  reach  your  new  quarters  before  nightfall.  It 
would  not  look  well  for  you  to  get  there  late." 

Renti  felt  as  though  a  thunderbolt  had  struck 
him.  The  morning  having  passed  in  its  usual  quiet 
way,  just  the  same  as  all  other  Sunday  mornings, 
he  thought  that  the  danger  must  be  over  and  that 
things  were  to  remain  as  of  old.  Now  came  this 
awful  awakening!  He  put  on  his  Sunday  clothes; 
dinner  came  and  went,  he  knew  not  how  ;  he  was 
as  if  stunned.  After  dinner  he  went  to  the  barn 
and  sat  down  on  the  lowest  round  of  the  hay  ladder. 
There  he  stayed  for  hours  without  stirring.  He 
could  not  go  to  The  Alders  and  tell  them  "  God 
keep  you."  No,  no,  n(f!  he  could  not  go  away! 
he  could  not ! 


'36 


THE   TWO   FARMS  I  37 

The  housewife,  thinking  he  had  done  as  she  told 
him,  packed  his  clothes  into  a  bundle  and  then 
joined  her  husband  in  the  sitting  room,  where  they 
always  sat  together  on  Sunday  afternoons.  Here 
she  waited  for  Renti  to  return. 

When  the  clock  struck  half -past  three  and  he 
had  not  yet  appeared,  she  said  :  '*  He  is  late.  He 
ought  to  be  here  by  this  time." 

''  He  knows  that  it  is  Sunday,  and  that  coffee 
will  be  on  the  table  at  four  o'clock.  He  will  be 
here,"  said  her  husband. 

The  wife  went  out  to  prepare  the  coffee.  When 
she  returned  with  the  tray  Renti  had  not  come. 
She  went  to  the  door  to  look  for  him  and  called 
his  name.    He  answered  from  the  barn. 

*'If  you  were  back,  why  didn't  you  come  in.?" 
she  said.  "  Come  and  drink  your  coffee.  It  is 
high  time  that  you  were  started." 

Renti  came  in  and  gulped  down  his  coffee,  but 
he  could  not  eat  anything.  The  woman  laid  a 
piece  of  the  fresh  Sunday  Kitchen  into  his  bundle 
and  held  it  out  toward  him. 

"  There,  Renti ;  God  keep  you !  Be  a  good  boy 
and  do  what  is  right.  Come  to  see  us  some  Sun- 
day and  tell  us  how  you  are  getting  on,"  she  said, 
as  she  laid  the  bundle  on  his  arm.    He  extended 


138  THE   LITTLE  RUNAWAY 

his  hand  to  the  woman,  then  to  the  man,  without 
saying  a  word;  then  he  turned  and  went  out. 

The  wife  went  as  far  as  the  outer  door  with  him. 

Renti  left  the  house  without  looking  back.  Once 
outside,  he  ran  as  fast  as  he  could. 

"  It  is  better  so,  after  all,"  said  the  woman,  com- 
ing back  to  her  husband's  side.  "He  might  have 
said  a  word  of  good-by ;  but  it  is  better  than  if  he 
had  been  sad  at  going,  for  then  it  would  have  been 
hard  to  send  him  away." 

**  You  need  not  worry  about  him,"  said  the  farmer. 
**  Youngsters  always  like  a  change.  He  is  glad  to 
get  into  something  new." 

Renti  ran  with  all  his  might  until  he  was  beyond 
the  house  and  land  of  Lindenhof.  Then  he  threw 
himself  down  on  the  ground  and  wept  and  moaned 
as  though  his  heart  would  break.  Not  a  gleam 
of  hope  could  he  see  before  him,  —  not  a  ray  of 
comfort. 

The  sky  was  covered  with  stars  when  he  finally 
arose.  Then  he  ran  without  stopping  until  he 
reached  Broadwood.  It  took  more  than  half  an 
hour  of  fast  running  to  cover  the  distance,  —  so 
far  away  from  home  was  his  new  life  to  be. 


CHAPTER  III 
GOING  ASTRAY 

When  Renti  arrived  at  the  lonely  looking  house 
at  Broadwood  everything  was  quiet,  and  the  door, 
which  in  country  houses  usually  stands  open  all 
day,  was  sternly  closed.  As  he  approached,  a  big, 
ugly  dog  darted  out  of  his  kennel  toward  him,  bark- 
ing and  growling  angrily.  Renti  shrank  back  in 
terror.  Fortunately  the  dog  was  chained,  for  he 
was  in  a  fierce  mood,  being  enraged  at  the  arrival 
of  so  late  a  visitor. 

The  door  of  the  house  opened  and  a  rough  voice 
called  out,  *' What's  the  matter  out  here  ?  " 

"It's  —  only  I,"  Renti  answered  in  trembling 
tones. 

**  Who  is  *  I ' .?  "  said  the  farmer.  "  Come  closer. 
He  will  not  eat  you.    Down,  Turk !  " 

Renti  came  forward  and  said,  "Good  evening." 

The  farmer,  seeing  the  bundle  on  Renti's  arm, 
said:  "Ah!  you  are  the  boy  from   Lindenhof.    A 

139 


140  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

pretty  time  to  arrive  !  They  surely  sent  you  away 
long  ago.  If  you  think  we  are  going  to  allow  you 
to  vagabond  and  come  home  when  you  please,  you 
are  mistaken.    Come  in." 

The  farmer's  wife  had  been  trying  to  make  out 
with  whom  her  husband  could  be  talking  at  this  late 
hour.  Every  one  else  was  in  bed,  —  sons  and  farm 
hands,  ^ — for  here  the  rule  was,  '<  Early  to  bed  and 
early  to  rise."  When  she  saw  her  husband  come 
in  with  a  boy  she  understood  who  it  was. 

"  Send  him  right  up  to  bed,"  she  said,  as  she 
brought  a  little  lamp  and  gave  it  to  her  husband. 
"You  will  have  to  show  him  the  way  and  light 
his  candle.  To-morrow  he  will  go  without  a  light. 
He  is  to  sleep  in  the  room  with  Matthew,  the  young 
fellow." 

The  farmer  led  the  way  with  his  meager  little 
light,  and  Renti  followed  him  to  a  small  room  under 
the  roof,  where  the  hired  man  was  already  sound 
asleep.  Renti  undressed  quickly  and  slipped  into 
his  narrow  little  bed;  the  farmer  went  away  with 
the  light.  Renti  realized  that  the  bed  was  harder 
than  the  one  he  had  slept  in  last,  but  this  did  not 
trouble  him  long.  He  was  very  tired  and  in  a  few 
moments  was  fast  asleep.  Then  he  thought  he 
was  under  the  alder  trees  with  Gretchen,  and  the 
Broadwood  steer  came,  and  he  charged  down  upon 
it  and  rescued  Gretchen. 


GOINCx   ASTRAY  I41 

There  was  more  noise  and  bustle  about  this  new 
establishment  than  in  the  home  he  had  just  left. 
The  Broadwood  estate  contained  a  great  deal  of 
woodland,  and  the  farmer,  with  his  three  sons  and 
two  hired  men,  worked  in  the  woods  all  winter.  In 
the  barn  there  was  a  team  of  stout  horses  besides 
the  cows,  and  sometimes  even  the  bad-tempered 
steer  was  put  into  harness,  for  there  wal5  much 
carting  and  hauling  to  do. 

Renti  was  expected  to  fetch  and  carry  and  make 
himself  useful  in  all  the  different  kinds  of  work,  in 
the  barn,  wood  lot,  or  house.  The  summer  vacation 
was  over,,  and  he  was  supposed  to  spend  a  number 
of  hours  in  school  each  day,  but  in  this  matter  the 
farmer  was  not  very  particular. 

On  Monday  morning  Renti  was  told  to  stay 
about  the  barn  and  help  the  farmer.  At  noon  he 
was  to  carry  dinner  to  the  workmen  in  the  wood 
lot  and  was  to  stay  there  and  help  for  the  rest  of 
the  day.  Renti  was  quick,  and  being  familiar  with 
the  work  about  the  barn,  he  got  along  very  well 
with  his  new  master.  At  noon  he  carried  a  big 
basket  to  the  woods,  and  after  the  men  had  disposed 
of  the  lunch  they  kept  Renti  busy  running  here  and 
there,  wherever  they  needed  him.  Now  he  had  to 
push,  now  to  pull,  and  to  carry  the  tools  back  and 
forth  continually. 


142  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

But  suddenly  he  disappeared.  Loud  voices  called 
him  repeatedly,  but  he  did  not  answer.  The  voices 
grew  angry ;  they  threatened,  they  scolded,  growing 
harsher  and  harsher.  Renti  did  not  come;  he  was 
by  this  time  far  beyond  the  reach  of  their  calls.  A 
feeling  had  suddenly  come  over  him  so  irresistibly 
that  he  could  not  withstand  it,  —  he  must  go  to  Lin- 
denhof  ;*  and  he  ran  and  ran,  without  stopping,  until 
he  reached  the  barn.  There  he  stopped  and  looked 
about  him.  Yes,  the  place  was  all  unchanged :  the 
big  barn  door  was  standing  open,  and  he  could  hear 
his  cows  inside  pulling  the  hay  out  of  their  cribs ; 
his  hens  were  scratching  about  as  usual  for  seeds 
and  grain,  cackling  contentedly. 

The  feeling  that  this  was  no  longer  his  home,  that 
he  no  longer  belonged  to  the  creatures  he  loved,  was 
more  than  Renti  could  stand.  He  crept  out  behind 
the  barn,  where  no  one  could  see  him,  and  threw 
himself  down  on  the  ground,  burying  his  face  and  sob- 
bing and  moaning  piteously.  For  a  long  time  he  lay 
there  ;  it  was  twilight  when  he  arose.  Then  he  ran 
as  fast  as  he  could  up  to  the  pasture,  and  climbed 
onto  the  little  stone  wall.  The  wind  rustled  through 
the  alder  branches  and  shook  dead  leaves  down  upon 
him ;  everything  else  was  very  quiet.  Renti  sat 
motionless,  staring  into  the  twilight  as  though  he 
hoped  to  summon  forth  some  figure  that  was  not 


GOING  ASTRAY  143 

there.  Presently  the  church  bell  rang  for  evening 
prayers.  The  sound  must  have  aroused  him.  He 
leaped  to  the  ground  and  ran  across  the  meadow 
toward  The  Alders,  where  he  stole  around  the 
corner  of  the  barn  and  looked  over  at  the  house. 
Everything  was  quiet;  not  a  person  was  in  sight. 
He  stood  there  until  he  saw  some  one  coming  out 
of  the  house.  It  was  Hannes  going  to  the  barn. 
Then  Renti  started  off  and  ran  home,  but  it  was 
quite  dark  when  he  reached  Broadwood.  When  he 
entered  the  house  he  saw  that  supper  was  over  and 
that  the  farmer,  who  was  putting  out  his  lantern, 
had  just  come  in  from  his  last  trip  to  the  barn. 
The  farmer's  wife  stood  beside  him.  She  spoke 
first.  "Here  comes  the  vagabond!  Do  you  think 
we  are  going  to  allow  such  conduct  here  ?  I  won- 
der that  you  have  the  face  to  come  back  at  all !  " 

Then  the  farmer  spoke.  ''Where^did  you  learn 
such  tricks  ?  I  hear  you  ran  away  in  the  middle  of 
the  day.  Did  they  allow  that  at  Lindenhof  ?  Be 
careful,  my  boy ;  if  this  happens  again,  you  will  rue 
it.  For  this  time  I  will  let  you  off,  because  it  is 
your  first  day  and  you  worked  well  this  forenoon ; 
bi;t  don't  try  it  again  !  Now  go  to  bed.  Supper  is 
o'^er.    Whoever  is  here  in  time  sits  down  with  us." 

Renti  went  upstairs  to  his  room.  He  did  not 
mind  going  without  supper,  now  that  he  had  been 


144  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

to  Lindenhof.  The  next  day  the  farmer  took  him 
into  the  potato  field.  Here  he  had  to  push  the  cart 
and  sort  over  potatoes,  picking  out  the  poor  ones 
and  laying  them  in  a  separate  heap  for  the  pigs. 

Everything  went  well  through  the  morning. 
Renti  worked  diligently  and  the  farmer  was  pleased 
with  him.  In  the  afternoon  the  wife  said  she  wanted 
Renti  to  help  her  in  the  garden.  She  was  going 
to  put  things  in  order  for  the  winter  and  take  up 
the  plants  that  were  not  to  stay  outdoors.  Renti 
proved  especially  quick  at  this  work,  for  he  had 
always  helped  the  mistress  of  Lindenhof  in  the 
same  task.  He  knew  just  what  had  to  be  done  and 
took  up  one  thing  after  another,  even  before  the 
woman  had  a  chance  to  direct  him. 

''  How  clever  you  can  be  when  you  want  to  !  " 
she  said,  half  in  approval,  half  in  reproach.  ''  Don't 
you  see  how  pleasant  it  would  be  if  you  would 
only  behave  as  you  should  ?  You  know  how  to  do 
your  work  properly,  and  we  are  all  friendly  toward 
you;  but  you  must  not  run  away." 

At  four  o'clock  the  woman  packed  a  lunch  basket 
and  gave  it  to  him.  "  Now  carry  the  men's  supper 
out  to  them.  They  are  at  the  edge  of  the  wood  and 
it  is  not  far.  Come  right  back  and  you  shall  have 
your  own  supper.  But  remember  to  come  back 
at  once." 


GOING  ASTRAY  145 

,    Renti  did  not  come  back. 

' 'Arch vagabond !"  exclaimed  the  woman  angrily, 
when  she  found  herself  still  working  alone  an  hour 
afterward.  It  was  now  growing  dark,  and  she 
gathered  up  her  tools  and  went  into  the  house. 

When  the  farmer  and  his  men  came  home  to 
supper  Renti  had  not  appeared. 

"Now  you  must  teach  him  who  is  master,"  said 
the  wife,  after  she  had  told  her  husband  about 
Renti. 

''Yes,  he  shall  learn  it  once  for  all,"  he  repHed. 

Supper-time  came  and  passed  and  the  workmen 
went  to  bed ;  only  the  farmer  and  his  wife  were 
still  busy  with  their  last  duties. 

At  length  Renti  appeared  in  the  door. 

"Straggler!"  the  farmer  called  out  angrily. 
"Where  have  you  been  roaming  about  .^  " 

Renti  said  nothing. 

"  Can't  you  speak  ?  "  demanded  the  wife. 

No  answer. 

"  Do  you  know  what  you  deserve  ?  There,  now 
perhaps  you'll  remember  to-morrow!"  said  the 
farmer  as  he  boxed  his  ears  sharply.  "  Now  go 
to  bed." 

On  Wednesday  Renti  worked  diligently,  doing 
carefully  whatever  task  he  was  set  to.  He  held 
out    bravely   until  twilight,   then   he    disappeared. 


146  THE   LITTLE  RUNAWAY 

When  the  housewife  wanted  wood  for  her  fire  she 
called  him,  but  there  was  no  Renti. 

"  What  can  we  do  with  such  a  boy  ? "  said  the 
farmer  in  despair  when  he  heard  this  last  report. 

"I  had  my  suspicions  from  the  first,"  said  the 
wife  accusingly,  '<  when  the  farmer  of  Lindenhof 
offered  him  to  you  so  readily.  I  suppose  his  wife 
had  had  enough  of  the  rascal's  tricks." 

"He  does  his  work  very  well  when  he  is  at  it," 
said,  the  man  in  a  conciliatory  tone ;  ''  but  I  really 
am  curious  to  know  where  he  wanders  about." 
He  opened  the  door  once  more  and  looked  out. 

"  I  am  not,"  replied  the  wife.  *' I'm  sure  he  has 
fallen  in  with  some  good-for-nothing  boys  who  go 
tramping  about  the  country,  and  that's  why  he 
won't  tell  where  he  *s  been.  And  what  if  he  does 
work  well  ?  What  good  is  he  to  us  if  he  is  always 
gone  when  we  need  him  most  ?  No,  we  cannot  keep 
him  if  he  goes  on  in  this  way." 

Just  as  the  farmer  was  about  to  lock  the  door 
Renti  came  running  in.  He  had  to  go  without 
supper,  as  on  the  previous  night,  and  received  a 
worse  drubbing  than  before,  and  a  stern  warning 
that  if  the  offense  was  repeated  something  serious 
would  happen. 

On  Thursday  the  farmer  said  to  his  wife :  ''  Let 
him  go  to  school  to-day.    There  is  nothing  special 


GOING  ASTRAY  147 

to  do.  Next  week  we  shall  have  particular  need  of 
him,  and  if  he  is  out  too  many  days  we  may  get  a 
notice  from  the  schoolmaster." 

Renti  went  to  school.  He  saw  Gretchen  for  the 
first  time  since  they  had  parted  in  the  meadow; 
but  he  saw  her  only  at  a  distance,  for  as  soon  as 
'school  was  dismissed  the  boys  all  ran  off  together 
in  one  direction  and  the  girls  in  another.  That  was 
the  way  they  always  did  at  school,  —  except  that 
in  the  winter  the  boys  ran  after  the  girls  and  snow- 
balled them  ;  but  there  had  not  been  enough  snow 
for  that  this  year.  So  at  four  o'clock  Renti  ran  off 
toward  Broadwood  without  having  spoken  a  word 
to  Gretchen.  When  he  was  halfway  home  and  was 
still  running  he  suddenly  felt  some  power  seize  him 
from  behind  and  turn  him  around.  He  faced  about, 
and  the  next  moment  was  running  back  over  the 
same  road  faster  than  ever. 

On  the  previous  Sunday  after  church,  when  the 
farmers  usually  met  and  exchanged  news  items, 
Gretchen  had  heard  that  Renti  was  to  leave  Lin- 
denhof  and  go  to  Broadwood.  She  was  so  down- 
cast by  the  news  that  she  did  not  speak  a  word  at 
dinner,  and  Uli  said  teasingly:  **  What's  the  matter 
with  you  ?    Has  your  kitten  run  away  again  ? " 

But  the  mother  said :  "  Don't  bother  her,  Uli.  She 
feels  sad  about  Renti,  because  he  must  go  away." 


148  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

''  Indeed,  I  don't  think  that 's  anything  to  feel 
sad  about,"  protested  Hannes.  *'At  Broadwood  he 
will  be  well  provided  for.  It  is  one  of  the  finest 
farms  in  the  country.  I  wish  we  had  a  team  of 
horses  like  theirs." 

Gretchen  felt  certain  that  Renti  would  come  in 
the  afternoon.  He  always  came  on  Sundays,  and' 
now  that  he  was  going  away  he  would  surely  come 
to  say  good-by,  and  then  she  would  tell  him  to  be 
sure  to  come  the  next  Sunday.  But  she  waited  for 
him  in  vain.  She  went  to  the  window  again  and 
again  to  look  for  him,  and  still  he  did  not  come. 
Gretchen  was  very  sad  at  heart.  At  the  supper 
table  her  father  remarked  that  it  was  not  very  man- 
nerly in  Renti  to  go  away  without  saying  good-by, 
—  and  that  made  her  feel  still  worse. 

Hannes  and  Uli  agreed  with  their  father  and 
said  they  would  not  have  thought  it  of  Renti ;  but 
the  mother  suggested  in  her  kindly  way  that  per- 
haps he  had  wanted  to  come  but  was  kept  at  home 
for  some  reason  by  the  farmer  or  his  wife. 

For  several  days  Gretchen  had  looked  for  Renti 
at  school,  but  in  vain.  She  knew,  however,  that  he 
had  left  Lindenhof,  for  Uli  had  heard  it  directly 
from  the  master  of  Lindenhof.  But  to-day  he  had 
been  at  school.  He  had  not  spoken  to  her,  and 
she  had  only  seen  him  sitting  on  his  bench  on  the 


GOING   ASTRAY  149 

Other  side  of  the  room,  and  after  school  he  had  run 
away  with  the  other  boys  ;  but  she  was  glad  that 
he  had  been  there  and  that  she  knew  at  least  this 
much  of  him. 

In  the  evening,  when  it  was  growing  dark, 
Gretchen's  mother  sent  her  to  the  well  with  the 
bucket  and  told  her  to  set  it  where  Uli  would  see 
it  and  bring  it  in  full  when  he  came.  As  Gretchen 
was  coming  back  from  the  well  she  heard  a  strange 
sound,  like  suppressed  moaning.  It  seemed  to  come 
from  the  barn,  and  she  stood  still  and  looked  in 
that  direction,  but  could  not  distinguish  anything 
on  account  of  the  darkness.  As  she  stood  looking 
she  heard  the  piteous  sound  again.  She  was  fright- 
ened and  ran  toward  the  house. 

Then  she  heard  her  name  called,  quite  plainly,  — 
"  Gretchen  !  "  She  knew  the  voice  and  ran  toward 
the  barn. 

There  stood  Renti  with  his  face  pressed  against 
the  wall. 

"  Renti !  is  it  you  ?  "  said  Gretchen  in  pleased 
surprise.  "Why  are  you  standing  out  here  ?  Come 
in.  Mother  is  in  the  kitchen.  And  why  are  you 
crying.? " 

"  I  can't  come  in  ;  I  am  afraid.  Everybody  is 
angry  with  me  for  running  away.  I  suppose  she 
is,  too." 


150 


GOING  ASTRAY  151 

''Oh,  oh!  you  went ,  away  without  asking?" 
cried  Gretchen  in  sad,  shocked  tones.  "  But  why 
did  n't  you  come  on  Sunday  ?  You  will  surely  come 
next  Sunday,  won't  you  ?  " 

''  Last  Sunday  I  could  n't  come,  and  till  next 
Sunday  is  so  long  I  can't  wait.  I  have  to  run 
away  every  day." 

"Where  do  you  run,  Renti.?    I  never  see  you." 

''It  is  always  late  when  I  come,  and  then  I  have 
to  go  right  back.  And  you  are  never  here.  I  run 
home  every  day  to  Lindenhof,  and  if  no  one  is 
there  to  see,  I  go  into  the  barn  and  look  down 
through  the  feed  holes  at  the  cows.  And  Brindle 
always  knows  me,  and  says  '  Moo '  when  she  sees 
me.  Oh,  I  can't  endure  it!  I  can't  endure  it!" 
groaned  Renti,  pressing  his  face  against  the  cold 
stones  as  though  to  wring  pity  from  them. 

Gretchen's  eyes  filled  with  tears. 

"  If  you  run  away  every  day,  Renti,  don't  they 
whip  you  ? " 

"Of  course  they  do.  They'll  whip  me  to-day, 
too." 

"  O  Renti !  then  go  home  as  fast  as  you  can,  or 
they  will  be  more  and  more  severe  with  you.  And 
don't  run  away  to-morrow,  nor  the  next  day,  nor 
any  more,  so  that  they  won't  whip  you,"  entreated 
Gretchen. 


152  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

"I  don't  mind  it  very  much,"  said  Renti.  "It 
isn't  so  bad  as  not  running  away." 

He  was  still  pressing  his  face  against  the  stones, 
but  at  length  Gretchen  drew  him  away  and  entreated 
him  to  go.  It  made  her  heart  ache  to  think  that 
they  would  beat  him,  and  she  hoped  he  might  be 
spared  if  he  ran  very  fast. 

So  Renti  turned*  and  darted  off  down  the  road. 

Gretchen  went  in  and  told  her  mother  all  about 
it,  —  how  sorry  she  felt  for  Renti  and  how  dread- 
ful it  was  that  they  should  whip  him.  The  mother 
was  sorry  for  the  boy,  too ;  but  she  said  that,  he 
must  learn  to  reconcile  himself  to  the  change  and 
not  run  away  any  more.  And  she  told  Gretchen 
to  tell  him,  if  she  saw  him  again,  that  he  would  be 
welcome  on  Sundays  at  The  Alders,  if  they  allowed 
him  to  come,  but  that  he  would  certainly  not  be 
welcome  if  he  ran  away. 

All  this  trouble  about  Renti  lay  heavy  on  Gret- 
chen's  heart.  The  boy  was  kept  out  of  school 
the  rest  of  the  week.  The  farmer  thought  he 
could  thus  keep  better  watch  of  him  and  prevent 
his  running  away,  until  he  was  settled  in  the  new 
life  and  trained  to  its  ways.  But  every  day  —  usu- 
ally it  was  dark  before  he  got  a  chance  —  he  would 
manage  to  slip  out,  and  away  he  would  shoot  like 
an  arrow.    The  later  it  was  when  he  escaped,  the 


GOING  ASTRAY  I  53 

later  would  he  come  home  and  the  harsher  would 
be  the  punishment  that  awaited  him.  On  Satur- 
day evening,  after  the  boy  had  been  chastised  as 
usual  and  sent  to  bed  without  supper,  the  farmer 
told  him :  **  I  will  give  you  one  more  week's  trial. 
If  you  do  not  improve  I  will  send  you  away." 

The  next  day  the  woman  said  to  Renti:  ''This 
afternoon  you  may  go  out  with  my  permission  ; 
but  see  that  you  come  back  at  a  reasonable  time 
for  supper,  as  befits  decent  people." 

Renti  went  away  right  after  dinner,  but  he  did 
not  go  to  The  Alders.  He  thought  the  family  had 
probably  heard  of  his  running  away,  and  he  was 
ashamed  to  go.  And  perhaps  Gretchen's  father 
and  her  brothers  would  look  accusingly  at  him  and 
make  him  feel  that  he  was  not  welcome.  He  felt 
the  same  way  about  the  people  at  Lindenhof,  and 
not  for  anything  would  he  have  gone  into  their 
house  or  let  them  see  him. 

It  had  begun  to  snow  a  little,  and  a  cold,  sharp 
wind  was  whirling  the  flakes  about  him  in  eddies. 

Renti  ran  up  to  the  meadow  and  sat  down  on 
the  stone  wall.  He  stayed  there  until  it  became 
dark,  although  he  was  shivering  with  cold  and  the 
wind  almost  blew  him  off  the  wall.  When  it  was 
so  dark  that  no  one  could  see  him,  he  went  down 
to  Lindenhof  and  wandered  about  the  barn  and  the 


154  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

Stables  like  some  restless  spirit  condemned  to  leave 
a  place  and  yet  unable  to  tear  itself  away.  Several 
times  he  started  toward  home  ;  then  he  would  turn 
back  and  go  all  around  the  barn  once  more,  lay- 
ing his  ear  to  the  cracks  and  trying  to  hear  some 
dear,  familiar  sound  from  his  cows  or  his  chickens. 
Finally  he  tore  himself  away  and  went  over  to 
The  Alders.  At  the  corner  of  the  barn  he  waited 
a  long,  long  time  to  see  whether  Gretchen  would 
come  out ;  but  she  was  nowhere  to  be  seen,  so  at 
last  he  ran  off  home. 

The  following  week  passed  as  the  previous  one 
had.  If  on  any  one  evening  Renti  found  no  chance 
to  run  away,  then  he  slipped  out  so  much  earlier 
the  next  day.  Several  times  he  came  home  so  late 
that  the  farmer  could  not  go  to  bed  at  his  usual 
time.  Then  the  boy  was  punished  with  exceeding 
severity,  so  that  the  farmer  thought,  **  Surely  this 
will  cure  him."    But  it  did  not  cure  him. 

On  the  second  Sunday,  when  Renti  came  down 
in  the  morning,  the  farmer  said  :  ''  You  may  go 
as  soon  as  you  have  finished  breakfast.  The  alms 
commissioner  knows  you  are  coming ;  I  told  him 
about  you." 

The  wife  packed  his  clothes  in  a  bundle,  and  when 
Renti  rose  from  the  table  she  gave  him  his  package, 
and  he  went  accompanied  by  the  parting  injunction 


GOING   ASTRAY  155 

from  both  the  farmer  and  his  wife  to  ''  be  better  in 
his  next  place  than  he  had  been  with  them." 

Renti  went  on  his  way  utterly  indifferent;  he 
did  not  care  where  he  might  be  sent  next.  When 
he  reached  the  commissioner's  house  the  man  had 
not  yet  returned  from  church,  so  he  waited.  Pres- 
ently the  man  appeared,  and  seeing  Renti  at  his 
door,  at  once  exclaimed  :  '*  What 's  this  I  hear  about 
you  ?  A  fine  record  you  are  making  !  You  'd  better 
try  to  stay  in  your  new  place,  for  I  don't  know 
what  will  become  of  you  after  the  next  three 
months.  The  parish  will  not  pay  for  you  after  that ; 
so  think  over  the  matter  a  little.  Now  you  are  to 
go  to  the  shoemaker's." 

Renti  felt  that  the  commissioner  did  not  feel 
friendly  toward  him,  as  he  had  formerly.  He 
turned  away  in  embarrassment  and  went  on. 

In  winter  the  farmers  did  not  usually  take  boys, 
as  they  did  through  the  summer,  for  their  clothes 
and  keep,  so  no  one  had  offered  to  take  Renti  on 
these  terms;  but  the  shoemaker  had  agreed  to 
take  him  for  a  small  sum  to  cover  his  board,  since 
he  always  had  use  for  a  boy. 

When  Renti  presented  himself  at  the  shoe- 
maker's the  man  was  sitting  in  the  one  room  of 
the  house,  with  his  wife  and  three  small  children. 
He  was  mending  a  shoe,  although  it  was  Sunday. 


156  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

''  I  suppose  you  are  the  new  boy,"  said  the 
woman,  when  he  presented  himself.  "  Lay  your 
bundle  in  here.  This  is  where  you  are  to  sleep," 
and  she  pointed  toward  the  door  by  which  he  had 
entered.  Renti  understood  that  he  was  to  sleep  in 
the  small  cupboard-like  opening  that  he  had  noticed 
on  the  left  of  the  door.  It  was  shut  off  from  the 
rest  of  the  room  by  a  few  narrow  boards,  with  wide 
cracks  between  them,  these  openings  being  the  only 
means  by  which  light  and  air  could  enter  the  space. 
Within,  there  was  nothing  but  a  straw  bed  and  a 
broken  chair.  This  was  to  be  Renti's  bedroom. 
He  tossed  his  bundle  on  the  chair  and  ran  out. 

The  poor  shoemaker  had  no  order  or  system  in 
his  household.  He  took  Renti  for  the  sake  of  the 
little  money  he  would  get  for  him,  and  because  he 
needed  some  one  to  do  his  errands,  as  his  own 
children  were  too  small  to  be  of  any  use  to  him. 
Aside  from  this  he  paid  little  attention  to  the  boy 
and  let  him  go  his  own  way.  He  sent  him  to  school 
mornings,  because  the  boy's  expenses  were  paid 
by  the  community  and  he  would  have  been  called 
to  account  if  Renti  had  not  gone  to  school ;  but  in 
the  afternoon,  if  he  had  long  errands,  or  any  other 
kind  of  work  for  him,  he  kept  him  out.  In  the 
evening  the  shoemaker  always  sent  him  about 
here  and  there,  and  Renti  came  home  when  he 


GOING  ASTRAY  157 

pleased,  no  one  paying  any  attention  to  him ; 
but  he  never  found  anything  to  eat  then,  for  he 
was  always  too  late  for  the  family  supper,  and  of 
course  nothing  was  saved  for  him.  The  others 
were  glad  that  he  did  not  come,  for  there  was 
hardly  enough  for  the  family,  and  if  he  had  come 
in  time  they  would  have  had  to  give  him  some- 
thing. To  have  anything  left  over  was  a  thing 
unknown  to  them. 

Renti  was  becoming  sadly  demoralized.  In  school 
he  never  knew  anything  because  he  never  studied 
at  home,  being  out  every  night.  In  appearance, 
too,  this  thin,  ragged  little  fellow  was  much  changed 
from  the  Renti  of  former  days. 

Gretchen  was  much  worried  about  it  all;  her 
days  had  become  very  unhappy.  When  she  heard 
the  teacher  saying  so  often,  *' Renti,  you  have  be- 
come one  of  the  very  worst  boys  in  school,"  she 
felt  like  sinking  through  the  floor,  for  she  always 
felt  as  though  it  were  she  herself  being  thus  dis- 
graced. She  never  had  a  chance  to  speak  to  Renti  ; 
he  always  ran  away  right  after  school  and  seemed 
to  have  grown  shy  and  timid.  She  could  not  tell 
her  troubles  at  home,  for  as  soon  as  she  mentioned 
his  name  her  brothers  would  cry  out,  '*  Don't  speak 
of  him;  he's  a  good  for  nothing."  And  even  her 
mother   would  no  longer  take  his   part   and   say 


158 


THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 


in  her  kind  way,  "He  may  turn  out  all  right  in 
time." 

Gretchen  had  but  one  hope,  —  that  when  Renti's 
time  with  the  shoemaker  was  over  and  he  was  once 
more  taken  on  a  farm,  where  there  was  better  man- 
agement, he  would  turn  over  a  new  leaf;  for  she 
could  not  believe  that  he  was  really  the  good  for 
nothing  that  her  brothers  thought  him. 

Evenings  she  often  wanted  to  go  out  to  see 
whether  Renti  might  not  be  standing  at  the  corner 
of  the  barn ;  she  wanted  to  console  him  and  urge 
him  to  do  better;  but  her  mother  would  never  let 
her  go.  She  said  that  Renti  should  not  be  wander- 
ing about  at  night,  and  if  he  had  a  clear  conscience 
he  would  find  their  door  on  Sunday  afternoons. 
If  he  did  n't  come  then,  Gretchen  was  not  to  watch 
for  him. 

So  on  many  and  many  a  night  Gretchen  went  to 
bed  with  a  heavy  heart,  and  lay  awake  thinking  of 
some  way  by  which  Renti  could  be  led  back  to  the 
right  path. 


CHAPTER   IV 

WHAT   GRETCHEN    LEARNED   AT   SUNDAY 
SCHOOL 

The  early  days  of  March  had  come.  In  the 
meadows  the  primulas  and  white  anemones  were 
blooming,  and  in  the  fields  the  farmers  were  rush- 
ing their  spring  work  with  all  their  might,  for  each 
one  wanted  to  be  first  to  get  his  potatoes  into  the 
ground.  Plowing  and  sowing  were  everywhere  wait- 
ing to  be  done.  There  was  much  need  of  help,  and 
boys  were  in  demand  once  more.  So  it  happened 
that  Renti  found  a  new  place  on  the  very  next 
day  after  he  left  the  shoemaker.  Early  on  Sunday 
morning  he  started  out  with  his  little  bundle ;  but 
it  was  a  very  different  bundle  from  the  one  that 
he  had  brought  with  him  from  Lindenhof.  He  had 
had  nothing  new  since  the  day  he  left  there,  and 
his  old  clothes  were  in  rags.  The  little  Sunday 
jacket,  once  so  neat  and  stout  looking,  was  now 
thin  and  shabby,  and  the  fresh  face  and  bright  eyes 
that  had  gone  with  the  jacket  when  it  was  new 

159 


l6o  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

wore  quite  a  different  look  when  Renti  presented 
himself  at  Brook  Farm,  his  new  home.  The  place 
was  so  named  because  the  farm  extended  along  the 
margin  of  a  large  stream  that  flowed  through  the 
lower  part  of  Buschweil.  Renti  reached  the  new  place 
quite  early,  before  the  farmer  had  started  for  church. 

Gretchen  was  happy  once  more  that  Sunday 
morning,  for  she  had  heard  the  alms  commissioner 
telling  her  father,  as  they  came  from  church,  that 
Renti  was  to  go  to  Brook  Farm,  and  that  it  would 
be  a  good  change  for  the  boy,  as  there  was  very 
poor  order  in  the  shoemaker's  household,  and  the 
boy  had  probably  not  had  much  to  eat. 

Afterward,  when  they  were  sitting  at  dinner, 
Gretchen' s  father  began  to  speak  of  Renti.  On 
Sundays  he  was  always  more  talkative  at  the  table 
than  during  the  week,  for  that  was  the  only  day 
when  they  had  plenty  of  time  to  eat  and  did  not 
have  to  hurry  back  to  work. 

**  Brook  Farm,"  he  said,  "is  an  excellent  place 
for  the  boy.  They  do  not  keep  a  hired  man  there 
and  have  few  laborers ;  so  he  will  be  with  the 
farmer  a  great  deal  and  right  in  his  sight.  Per- 
haps he  can  thus  be  brought  back  to  proper  ways 
and  made  to  forget  his  runaway  habits." 

*'  I  doubt  whether  he  will  ever  be  cured  of  his 
vagabonding.    What    excuse  had  he   for    running 


WHAT   GRETCHEN    LEARNED  i6l 

away  at  Broad  wood  ?  He  had  a  good  place  there," 
said  Hannes  impatiently;  for  it  irritated  him  to 
think  that  over  there  were  two  fine  horses  stand- 
ing in  the  barn,  while  in  their  own  stalls  there  were 
none,  and  he  had  always  longed  for  one. 

''  Why  should  he  run  away  anyhow  ?  "  Uli  went 
on.  *'  Hannes  and  I  never  thought  of  such  a  thing, 
and  we  had  many  a  job  that  we  did  not  exactly 
like  when  we  were  going  to  school." 

Hannes  and  Uli  were  both  a  little  self-righteous. 
They  had  always  lived  'an  even,  proper  life,  and  did 
not  reflect  what  it  had  been  worth  to  them  to  have 
a  good,  comfortable  home  and  loving  care. 

'*We  must  not  lay  it  up  against  him  that  he 
ran  away  sometimes,"  said  the  mother  charitably, 
*'  if  he  does  right  now.  He  is  young,  and  has  been 
knocked  about  a  great  deal.  If  he  falls  into  good 
hands  now,  he  may  turn  out  all  right." 

Gretchen  was  very  glad  to  hear  her  mother  say  that. 
After  dinner  she  ran  out  into  the  meadow  to  gather 
primulas  and  anemones,  and  she  remembered  with 
pleasure  the  times  when  Renti  and  she  had  gone  out 
together  on  Sunday  afternoons  to  pick  the  flowers. 
Perhaps  he  would  come  again,  if  he  got  back  into  a 
proper  life  now  and  found  he  could  do  right  once  more. 

All  that  day  Renti  roamed  about,  no  one  knew 
where,  for  he  took  good  care  not  to  let  any  one  see 


l62  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

him.  It  was  always  the  old  places,  however,  that 
he  haunted.  On  Sundays  he  often  sat  for  hours 
behind  the  barn  at  Lindenhof,  and  there,  hidden  by 
the  wood  pile,  he  would  dig  worms  and  grubs  for 
the  hens  and  so  coax  them  to  him.  They  would 
eat  the  morsels  from  his  hand  with  evident  pleas- 
ure, cackling  contentedly,  just  as  they  used  to  do 
when  they  still  belonged  to  him.  But  sometimes, 
in  the  midst  of  his  enjoyment,  he  would  suddenly 
press  his  face  against  the  wood  and  sob  piteously. 

On  Monday  morning  work  began.  He  was  kept 
constantly  under  the  farmer's  eyes,  as  Gretchen's 
father  had  said,  for  there  was  no  one  besides  the 
farmer  and  Renti  to  do  the  work  in  field  and  stable. 

The  wife  had  only  two  small  children,  and  she 
herself  carried  in  wood  and  water  for  the  kitchen. 
So  there  was  no  twilight  hour  when  Renti  was  sent 
out  on  these  errands,  and  consequently  there  was 
no  chance  for  running  away. 

After  the  field  work  and  the  evening  chores  in  the 
barn  were  finished  the  farmer  would  say,  **  Now 
come  in  to  supper  and  then  go  to  bed." 

The  man  rarely  spoke  to  Renti,  but  the  boy  real- 
ized very  well  that  he  was  keeping  close  watch  of 
him.  For  a  whole  week  there  was  no  chance  for 
the  least  attempt  at  running  away.  The  boy  was 
not  sent  to  school,  for  the  farmer  said  that  the 


WHAT  GRETCHEN   LEARNED  163 

early  spring  work  was  very  urgent.  All  this  pro- 
duced a  strange  effect  on  Renti :  he  felt  possessed 
by  a  passion  to  tear  in  pieces  everything  that  was 
put  in  his  hands  and  trample  it  underfoot. 

If  the  work  that  he  was  doing  kept  him  behind 
the  farmer's  back,  he  would  suddenly  throw  down 
his  tools,  clinch  his  fists,  and  stamp  on  the  ground 
like  a  madman.  When  the  farmer  turned  round 
he  would  snatch  up  his  tools  and  fall  to  work;  but 
these  strange  performances  did  not  wholly  escape 
the  farmer's  eye. 

The  boy  was  not  nearly  so  apt  in  his  work  as  he 
had  formerly  been.  If  the  farmer  explained  to  him 
how  a  thing  was  to  be  done,  one  step  after  another, 
he  paid  little  attention  and  forgot  all  the  instruc- 
tions before  he  got  half  through  the  task.  It  was 
plain  that  his  thoughts  were  not  upon  the  work, 
for  he  would  stand  staring  vacantly  into  space, 
and  sometimes  his  eyes  would  roll  about  in  a  wild 
way  as  though  he  were  engaged  in  some  fierce 
struggle. 

"  Keep  your  mind  on  your  work  and  don't  be  so 
clumsy,"  the  farmer  often  told  him,  but  it  did  no 
good.  Again  he  would  warn  him  :  *'  Be  careful, 
my  boy  ;  if  you  don't  do  better,  you  will  be  sorry 
for  it."  But  he  did  not  improve.  On  the  next  Sun- 
day the  farmer  said,  ''You  must    stay    at    home 


l64  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

to-day.  If  you  go  wandering  about  the  country, 
your  head  will  be  full  of  crazy  notions  all  the  week." 

Renti  could  not  get  away,  for  the  farmer  remained 
at  home  all  day  within  sight  of  the  house  and  barn, 
keeping  his  eye  on  the  boy  until  it  was  time  to 
milk  the  cows  and  feed  them,  and  in  these  duties 
Renti  always  had  to  help. 

The  following  week  was  even  worse  than  the 
last  one.  Renti  seemed  possessed  by  some  evil 
spirit  that  gave  him  no  rest.  One  day  the  farmer 
directed  him  to  sit  down  before  the  barn  door  and 
cut  some  potatoes  that  were  needed  for  planting, 
he  himself  being  busy  in  the  barn  where  he  could 
keep  an  eye  on  the  boy.  Renti  had  done  this  work 
before  and  knew  very  well  that  the  potatoes  must 
be  cut  carefully  so  that  each  piece  would  have 
the  proper  eyes  for  sprouting.  But  he  went  at 
them  regardless  of  eyes  or  sprouts,  hacking  right 
and  left  with  such  fierceness  that  it  seemed  as 
though  he  were  taking  vengeance  on  the  potatoes 
for  some  great  wrong  that  they  had  done  him.  The 
farmer  came  up  softly  behind  the  boy  ;  the  violence 
of  the  latter's  movements  had  made  him  suspect 
that  the  work  was  not  being  done  as  carefully  as 
it  should  be. 

*'  What  are  you  doing  .?  "  he  said  suddenly,  right 
behind  the  boy's  chair. 


WHAT  GRETCHEN   LEARNED  165 

Renti  sprang  up  in  alarm,  upsetting  the  basket 
with  all  the  uncut  potatoes,  and  these  rolled  down 
into  a  cistern  that  the  farmer  had  just  uncovered, 
all  but  a  few  disappearing  in  the  hole. 

Then  Renti  began  to  recover  his  senses,  for  he  had 
been  sitting  as  if  in  delirium.  He  had  not  meant  to 
spoil  the  potatoes,  but  had  simply  not  thought  any- 
thing about  what  he  was  cutting  them  for,  and  it  re- 
lieved his  feelings  to  chop  them  with  all  his  might. 

"A  pretty  mess  you  've  made  !  "  said  the  farmer 
angrily,  as  he  contemplated  the  few  small  potatoes 
that  were  left.  "  You  are  more  expense  to  me  than 
you  are  worth.  This  comes  of  having  your  thoughts 
always  on  vagabonding.  But  you're  not  going  to 
stir  a  step  from  the  house,  —  you  may  count  on  that. 
Struggle  as  you  please,  you  will  finally  learn  to 
be  patient." 

These  words  made  Renti  feel  as  though  the 
farmer  had  fastened  a  chain  to  him  and  bound  him 
down.  After  that  he  grew  more  restless  and  more 
erratic  than  ever.  He  was  continually  looking  about 
for  some  way  of  escape,  and  whatever  he  did  was 
so  carelessly  done  that  the  farmer  more  than  once 
took  him  by  the  ear  and  said,  ''  Careful,  careful  1 
This  can't  go  on  much  longer." 

On  Saturday  evening,  at  milking  time,  the  farmer 
went  into  the  barn,  with  Renti  following  as  usual. 


1 66  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

"You  haven't  brought  back  the  bucket  since  it 
was  scrubbed  at  the  well,"  he  said  impatiently;  for 
he  had  already  tied  the  cow's  tail  so  that  she  would 
not  switch  it  in  his  face  while  he  was  milking. 
"  Run  and  fetch  it,  and  be  quick !  " 

Renti  ran  out.  Once  outside  the  door  he  flew 
like  an  arrow  over  the  fields.  A  few  moments 
afterward  the  farmer  rose  from  his  milking  stool, 
where  he  had  been  sitting  waiting,  and  went  to  the 
door.  The  well  was  just  outside :  there  stood  the 
bucket,  upside  down,  as  it  had  been  left  to  dry,  and 
Renti  was  nowhere  in  sight. 

**  Tricky  little  scamp  !  This  is  the  last  I  '11  have 
of  you !  "  muttered  the  farmer  in  rage,  as  he  went 
out  to  get  the  bucket. 

Renti  ran  without  stopping  until  he  reached  the 
path  leading  to  Lindenhof.  Then  he  paused  ;  he 
happened  to  think  that  it  was  just  the  time  when 
the  men  would  be  busy  about  the  stables.  So  he 
turned  about  and  ran  toward  The  Alders. 

"  Renti,  Renti !  wait !  "  he  heard  a  voice  calling 
behind  him.  He  turned  about  and  saw  Gretchen 
coming  toward  him  with  smiling  face.  She  was  very 
glad  to  see  Renti  once  more  and  wanted  to  hear  from 
him  that  he  was  getting  on  well  in  the  new  place  and 
that  everything  was  going  to  turn  out  happily,  — 
for  this  was  what  she  confidently  expected  to  hear. 


WHAT  GRETCHEN   LEARNED  167 

But  when  she  came  up  with  him  and  looked  into 
his  face  she  said  in  alarm,  ''  Renti,  what  is  the 
matter  with  you  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  was  the  answer. 

''  But  you  are  so  changed.  Are  you  out  on  an 
errand  ^    Were  you  coming  to  our  house  }  " 

"  No." 

**  You  have  n't  run  away  again,  Renti,  have 
you.?" 

Gretchen  looked  at  him  in  distress. 

**  Yes,  I  have." 

Gretchen  grew  pale. 

''  Oh,  oh !  now  you  are  doing  it  again,  and 
everything  will  go  wrong !  What  will  the  farmer 
do  to  you  when  you  go  back .?  " 

"  I  don't  care  what  he  does.  I  'd  like  to  chop 
down  all  his  trees  !  " 

That  seemed  to  Renti  the  most  awful  injury  that 
one  could  do  to  an  enemy.  He  had  once  heard 
of  a  servant  who,  in  a  fit  of  anger,  had  cut  down 
his  master's  tree,  and  Renti  remembered  what  a 
dreadful  impression  this  had  made  on  every  one; 
for  a  fine  old  tree,  that  has  stood  from  one  genera- 
tion to  another,  giving  its  yearly  offering  of  fruit,  is 
looked  upon  with  special  reverence  by  the  farmers. 
Renti  uttered  this  hideous  wish  with  clinched  fists 
and  set  teeth. 


1 68 


WHAT   GRETCHEN   LEARNED  169 

Gretchen  was  very  sad.  '*  I  never  saw  you  like 
this,  Renti.  You  are  surely  getting  bad  again," 
she  wailed,  "  and  everybody  will  turn  against  you, 
and  there  won't  be  any  possible  help  for  you." 

''  No  ;  no  help  at  all,"  groaned  Renti. 

The  church  bell  sounded  for  evening  prayers. 

''  I  must  go  home,"  said  Gretchen  hastily.  ''Our 
happy  days  are  over.    Good  night,  Renti." 

''Yes ;  and  all  my  life  long  I  can  have  no  more 
pleasure.    Good  night,  Gretchen." 

Renti  ran  across  the  fields  toward  Lindenhof, 
and  Gretchen  went  her  way  with  a  sad  heart. 

On  the  following  day,  a  bright  Sunday  in  spring, 
when  all  the  fields  lay  smiling  and  sparkling,  Gret- 
chen stood  at  the  corner  of  the  house  and  would 
not  go  in  to  dinner,  for  she  feared  that  now  they 
all  knew  that  Renti  had  been  running  away  again ; 
and  what  would  her  father  and  brothers  say  ?  Her 
mother  called  a  second  time  and  she  reluctantly 
went  into  the  house. 

She  was  not  kept  long  in  suspense.  As  soon  as 
her  father  had  laid  down  his  soup  spoon,  he  said : 
"  Well,  now  it 's  over  with  Renti.  I  heard  to-day 
at  church  that  he  had  been  sent  away  from  Brook 
Farm.  The  farmer  says  he  cannot  keep  him 
because  he  is  good  for  nothing,  and  that  it  would 
be  useless  for  any  one  else  to  try  him." 


170  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

*'  But  where  will  he  go,  father  ?  "  asked  Gretchen 
timidly. 

**  Perhaps  they  will  take  him  to  the  poorhouse, 
as  they  did  Yoggi,  the  idiot  boy.  There  he  will  be 
mastered,"  Hannes  informed  her  with  a  triumphant 
air.  ''They  won't  expect  him  to  work,  but  if  he 
does  n't  stop  running  away  they  will  tie  him  down 
until  he  grows  tame." 

''  It 's  what  he  deserves,"  declared  Uli,  with  self- 
righteous  assurance. 

"  I  am  really  disappointed  in  the  boy,"  said  the 
mother.  "  I  was  always  fond  of  him  and  hoped 
he  would  turn  out  a  good  boy  in  time  ;  but  if  he 
does  n't  behave  anywhere,  it  is  a  bad  sign  and  shows 
there  must  be  something  wrong  with  him." 

Gretchen  could  hardly  keep  back  her  tears. 
Everybody  was  against  him  now,  even  her  mother, 
and  she  dared  not  say  a  word  in  his  behalf.  Then 
when  she  remembered  how  strangely  he  had  be- 
haved the  evening  before,  she  grew  more  and  more 
troubled,  and  thought  that  perhaps  he  had  really 
fallen  into  evil  ways.  And  she  could  not  help  him, 
and  no  one  else  could  help  him.  She  could  hardly 
choke  down  the  last  mouthful,  and  left  the  table 
before  dinner  was  over,  asking  permission  to  go  out. 

"Yes,  but  do  not  stay  out  late,"  her  mother 
said,  as  she  always  did. 


WHAT   GRETCHEN   LEARNED  171 

Gretchen  ran  up  to  the  pasture,  where  it  was 
quiet,  and  where  very  few  people  ever  came.  When 
she  reached  the  stone  wall  she  sat  down  under  the 
shade  of  the  alders  and  thought  over  the  whole 
matter  about  Renti,  —  how  he  seemed  to  be  going 
from  bad  to  worse  and  how  hopeless  everything 
seemed.  The  tears  that  she  had  held  back  so  long 
began  to  flow  down  her  cheeks,  and  while  the  birds 
in  the  alder  tree  were  singing  their  merriest  songs 
she  sat  underneath  and  wept  as  though  her  heart 
would  break. 

Presently  she  heard  some  one  approaching ;  she 
dried  her  tears  and  kept  very  quiet.  Looking  down 
over  the  meadow,  she  saw  the  pastor  coming  to- 
ward her.  On  Sunday  afternoons  he  often  took  this 
walk  up  the  hill  to  enjoy  the  fine  view  one  got  from 
there  over  the  surrounding  country. 

Seeing  Gretchen  sitting  all  alone  on  the  stone 
wall,  he  stopped  in  surprise  and  spoke  to  her.  She 
arose  at  once  and  gave  him  her  hand.  He  looked 
at  her  in  silence  for  a  moment ;  then,  patting  her 
shoulder  in  a  friendly  way,  he  said  :  *^  Gretchen, 
Gretchen,  what  is  the  matter  with  your  bright  eyes  ? 
Don't  you  hear  the  birds  singing  and  giving  thanks 
for  this  beautiful  Sunday  ?  " 

*' Yes,  Herr  Pastor,  I  hear  them." 

''And  can  you  not  be  happy  with  them  ? " 


1/2  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

'*  No,  I  cannot,"  she  said  in  a  voice  that  was 
almost  a  sob. 

''  Are  you  in  trouble,  Gretchen  ?  Come,  tell  me 
about  it.     Can't  you  ?  " 

Gretchen  for  a  moment  made  no  reply  ;  then 
she  said  in  a  low  voice,  "  No.  " 

*'  I  think  I  understand,"  said  the  pastor  sympa- 
thetically. *'  Sometimes  things  will  happen  that  we 
don't  care  to  talk  about,  —  some  little  difference 
with  brothers,  or  some  misunderstanding  at  home. 
It  frets  and  grieves  us,  because  we  see  no  way  of 
ever  straightening  it  out  and  being  happy  again  ; 
but,  Gretchen,  don't  you  remember  the  lines  you 
recited  in  Sunday  school  a  week  ago  ?  " 

*' Yes,  Herr  Pastor,"  answered  the  child  with- 
out trepidation  ;  for  she  was  not  one  of  those  who 
learned  her  verses  the  last  minute  before  Sunday 
school  and  then  forgot  them  as  soon  as  she  was 
out  of  church.  She  studied  them  carefully  and 
conscientiously,  so  that  she  should  be  sure  of  not 
breaking  down  in  church. 

*' Won't  you  come  here  and  say  them  for  me 
now  ? " 

The  pastor  seated  himself  on  the  wall  and  mo- 
tioned Gretchen  to  a  seat  beside  him.  She  will- 
ingly obeyed,  and  clasping  her  hands  she  said  with 
reverent  air  : 


WHAT   GRETCHEN    LEARNED  173 

"Sing,  pray,  walk  in  His  way, 

Do  your  work  as  for  the  Lord  ; 

He  will  help  you  when  the  world 

Naught  of  comfort  can  afford. 

For  if  your  faith  be  sure. 

And  your  courage  endure, 

God  will  be  your  friend." 

*'  That  is  very  good  ;  but  have  you  ever  thought 
what  the  poem  means,  Gretchen .? "  asked  the 
pastor. 

''  I  have  repeated  it  ever  so  many  times,  so  that 
I  could  say  it  without  stumbUng,"  said  Gretchen. 

**You  have  learned  it  very  well  indeed,"  said 
the  pastor  ;  ''  but  I  mean  something  more  than  that. 
Let  us  see  what  it  says:  'Sing,'  —  that  is,  be 
happy  like  the  birds,  and  do  not  lose  courage  or 
hang  your  head  ;  *  pray,'  —  that  you  must  do  to  keep 
happy.  *  Do  your  work  as  for  the  Lord,*  and  you  will 
feel  that  God  is  with  you,  and  will  help  you  when 
no  one  else  in  the  world  can.  Now  think  about  it, 
Gretchen.    And  good-by." 

Smilingly  the  pastor  held  out  his  hand  to  the 
child,  and  then  went  on  up  the  hill. 

Gretchen  had  listened  with  deep  attention  to  all 
that  he  had  said,  and  now  as  she  sat  thinking  of 
his  words  a  great  weight  seemed  to  be  lifting  from 
her  heart :  she  had  found  comfort.     She  would  do 


174 


THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 


just  as  the  pastor  had  said ;  and  she  repeated  the 
poem  again,  slowly  and  thoughtfully,  trying  to 
remember  all  that  he  had  told  her.  When  she 
reached  the  last  lines  she  said  them  out  loud  joy- 
ously and  confidently : 

*'  For  if  your  faith  be  sure, 
And  your  courage  endure, 
God  will  be  your  friend." 

Then  she  heard  'the  birds  singing  in  the  alder 
trees,  and  she  suddenly  felt  like  joining  in  their 
song.  The  evening  sun  was  spreading  its  golden 
light  over  the  meadow,  and  Gretchen  saw  that  it 
was  time  to  go  home.  She  jumped  from  the  wall 
and  walked  down  the  hill  toward  home,  singing  a 
happy  song  as  she  went. 


CHAPTER  V 
HOW  RENTI   LEARNS  A   MOTTO 

The  alms  commissioner  had  tried  hard  to  have 
them  keep  Renti  awhile  longer  at  Brook  Farm, 
for  he  did  not  know  what  else  to  do  with  the  boy. 
There  was  no  room  for  him  in  the  poorhouse,  and 
since  everybody  declared  him  utterly  useless  for 
work,  there  was  no  prospect  of  finding  another 
place  for  him.  The  parish  was  not  willing  to 
pay  for  him  in  the  summer,  as  it  did  through  the 
winter.  The  farmer  at  first  vowed  he  would  have 
nothing  more  to  do  with  the  boy,  but  at  last  con- 
sented to  keep  him  a  week  or  two  longer.  The 
field  work  would  be  increasing  throughout  the  sum- 
mer, and  perhaps  after  a  while  a  place  would  be 
found  for  Renti,  —  if  not  in  Buschweil,  where 
everybody  knew  the  boy,  then  perhaps  in  some 
neighboring  parish. 

So  for  the  present  Renti  remained  at  Brook 
Farm  ;  but  he  had  a  miserable  time  of  it,  for  the 
farmer  was  harsh  toward  him  for  having  succeeded 

175 


176  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

in  running  away  on  the  Saturday  before  in  spite  of 
all  his  vigilance.  Nor  did  Renti  improve  in  his 
work ;  so  he  got  nothing  but  harsh  words,  and  he 
grew  ugher  every  day. 

The  season  was  an  exceptionally  bright  and 
sunny  one,  so  the  spring  work  could  be  carried  on 
without  interruption.  The  farmers  who  had  plenty 
of  help  might  count  on  a  rich  harvest,  for  they  were 
able  to  get  their  seeds  in  early,  and  the  warm  sun 
promised  rapid  growth. 

The  last  farm  in  the  parish  of  Buschweil  was 
Stony  Acre.  In  fact,  it  lay  partly  in  the  next  parish, 
but  the  family  came  to  church  in  Buschweil.  They 
lived  an  earnest,  arduous  life  at  Stony  Acre.  From 
early  morning  till  late  at  night  the  farmer,  with  his 
five  sons  and  two  hired  men,  were  abroad  plow- 
ing and  sowing,  while  the  wife  went  out  into  the 
bean  field,  with  a  maidservant  and  a  day  laborer, 
and  superintended  the  digging  of  holes  and  the 
planting  of  the  beans.  When  noon  came  she  would 
hurry  home,  get  dinner,  then  run  to  the  stables  and 
feed  the  stock,  and  then  out  into  the  bean  field 
again  ;  and  so  on  all  day  long  without  stopping,  for 
she  was  known  to  have  more  energy  and  endurance 
than  any  other  woman  in  the  community. 

But  '*to  be  everywhere  at  the  same  time  is 
impossible,"  she  said  to  her  husband  one  evening. 


HOW    RENTI   LEARNS  A   MOTTO  177 

"  I  must  have  a  boy.  When  you  begin  work  in 
the  outlying  fields  and  can't  come  home  to  dinner, 
how  shall  I  cook  the  meals  and  carry  them  out  to 
you,  and  at  the  same  time  be  here  to  feed  the 
cattle  and  look  after  the  house  ?  " 

''  Get  a  boy,"  said  the  farmer.  "  Choose  one  your- 
self and  you  will  be  better  satisfied." 

But  there  was  little  choice  for  her.  Far  and  near 
there  was  not  a  boy  to  be  had  except  Renti,  and 
he  had  the  reputation  of  being  so  stubborn  and  ugly 
that  no  one  could  manage  him. 

''  Indeed !  "  said  the  woman  when  this  was  told 
her;  "  I 'd  like  to  see  the  boy  I  couldn't  manage. 
I  Ve  brought  many  an  older  one  to  terms,  and 
we  '11  see  how  long  it  takes  to  make  this  youngster 
toe  the  mark." 

She  immediately  sent  word  to  Brook  Farm  that 
she  needed  a  boy  and  that  they  might  send  Renti. 

When  people  heard  that  the  boy  was  to  go  to 
Stony  Acre  they  said  that  this  was  the  last  chance 
of  his  ever  amounting  to  anything,  for  if  any  one 
in  the  world  could  discipline  him,  this  woman  could. 
She  had  tamed  many  a  wild  fellow,  and  if  anything 
could  be  done  with  Renti,  she  was  the  one  to  do  it. 

Renti  presented  himself  on  the  same  day  that  he 
was  sent  for.  The  woman  happened  to  be  all  alone 
that  afternoon,  and  was  sitting  out  in  front  of  the 


178  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

house  picking  over  seed  peas.  Beside  her  lay  a  big 
watchdog,  who  growled  at  the  slightest  noise  and 
sprang  up  barking  furiously  when  Renti  appeared. 

"  Be  quiet !  "  the  woman  commanded  him.  Then 
turning  to  Renti,  she  said  :  "  Come  this  way.  He 
will  not  hurt  you  if  you  do  nothing  wrong.  It  is  for- 
tunate that  I  have  this  opportunity  of  speaking  to 
you  quietly  before  the  others  come,  for  I  have  some- 
thing to  say  to  you.  You  see  I  've  heard  about  your 
tricks,  my  boy;  but  don't  try  any  of  them  here, 
for  the  first  time  you  run  away  you  '11  get  a  thrash- 
ing such  as  you  never  dreamed  of.  What  do  you 
say  to  that  ?  " 

"  Nothing,"  said  Renti  in  stubborn  tones. 

''  Nothing  ?  You  mean  to  defy  me  ?  What  did 
you  do  before  when  you  got  a  good  thrashing  for 
running  away  .'*  " 

"  I  ran  away  again  the  next  day." 

"  Indeed  .-*  Then  that  was  all  the  good  it  did  ? 
Well,  I  know  something  better  that  will  surely  cure 
you."  The  woman  called  to  the  dog,  —  "  Nero  !  " — 
and  pointing  her  finger  at  Renti,  said,  "  Watch !  " 

The  dog  growled  angrily  and  made  a  dash  at  the 
boy;  but  the  woman  held  him  by  the  collar,  and 
Renti  shrank  back  in  alarm. 

''  I  see  you  understand,"  the  woman  said  to 
Renti.    "  Now  the  dog  has  learned  his  lesson,  and 


179 


I  So  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

hereafter,  when  you  carry  dinner  out  into  the  fields, 
or  go  on  the  sHghtest  errand,  he  will  go  with  you ; 
for  I  can't  be  watching  you  —  I  have  other  things  to 
do.  If  you  make  any  attempt  to  get  away,  the  dog 
will  understand  instantly,  you  may  depend  upon  it. 
He  will  seize  you  by  the  neck,  and  perhaps  kill  you; 
there  will  be  no  help  for  you.  Do  you  think  you 
understand  ?  " 

**  Yes,"  answered  the  boy  in  timid  tones,  for  he 
trembled  at  the  thought  of  his  fierce  guard. 

"  Now  as  to  your  work.  If  you  do  your  tasks 
properly,  all  will  be  well ;  if  not,  remember  that  I 
have  taken  others  by  the  ears.  So  make  your  plans 
accordingly." 

After  these  preliminaries  the  woman  told  him 
what  his  duties  would  be.  That  very  evening  he 
was  sent  out  to  the  fields  with  supper  for  the  men, 
and  the  dog  went  with  him,  never  for  a  moment 
stirring  from  his  side.  Renti  saw  that  there  would 
be  no  more  chance  of  running  away. 

The  following  week  was  a  hard  one  for  the  boy. 
But  he  himself  had  now  grown  hard.  He  never 
was  so  stubborn  before.  At  Lindenhof  he  had 
never  felt  like  being  insolent ;  but  now,  when  the 
woman  would  say  to  him,  ''Why  do  you  stand 
there  staring  into  space  ?  why  don't  you  go  on  with 
your  work  .?  "  he  would  answer  sullenly,  "  Because." 


HOW  RENTI    LEARNS  A  MOTTO  l8l 

And  when  she  called  out  to  him,  "  Be  quick,  or 
I  will  come  and  help  you !  "  he  would  say,  ''  Who 
cares !  " 

One  day,  when  she  had  set  him  to  weeding  the 
garden,  he  went  about  it  so  fiercely  that  she  stopped 
to  watch  him.  He  drove  his  hoe  into  the  ground 
so  hard  that  he  could  scarcely  pull  it  out,  thus 
giving  vent  to  his  inner  rage.  She  called  to  him 
to  be  careful,  or  he  might  be  sorry.  He  muttered 
angrily  that  he  didn't  care  what  happened. 

More  than  once  he  was  taken  by  the  ears  for  his 
saucy  answers.  It  was  a  week  full  of  secret  rage 
on  the  boy's  part,  and  of  indignation  and  angry 
outbursts  on  the  woman's  part. 

On  Sunday  morning  after  church,  when  her 
acquaintances  gathered  about  her,  all  anxious  to 
hear  how  she  was  getting  on  with  the  boy,  she  ex- 
claimed over  and  over:  "He  drives  me  frantic!  I 
don't  wonder  that  no  one  would  take  him.  Such 
a  sulky,  impudent  rascal  —  you  would  n't  believe 
it  unless  you  heard  him.  And  his  work  doesn't 
amount  to  anything.  But  I  will  not  give  in  until 
I  master  him." 

Then  the  women  all  agreed  among  themselves, 
"  He  must  be  a  bad  one,"  and  told  their  husbands 
when  they  got  home,  "If  she  succeeds  in  bringing 
him  to  time  it  will  be  a  miracle." 


1 82  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

In  the  afternoon  Renti  was  told  to  carry  some 
tools  that  needed  repairing  down  to  the  smithy. 
**As  it  is  Sunday,  you  may  stay  out  until  five 
o'clock ;  but  see  that  you  get  home  in  time.  If 
you  are  not  here  at  five,  you  will  regret  it." 

Renti  took  the  tools  and  went.  He  had  but  to  leave 
them  at  the  smithy,  so  that  they  might  be  repaired 
in  the  morning,  and  thus  no  precious  time  would  be 
taken  from  the  working  hours  for  this  errand. 

Ridding  himself  of  his  load  as  quickly  as  possible, 
Renti  was  off  and  away  into  the  sunny  afternoon. 
He  would  go  and  visit  the  pasture  once  more,  and 
the  little  stone  wall,  and  the  alder  trees.  While  he 
was  yet  at  a  distance  he  saw  that  Gretchen  was 
sitting  on  the  wall.  As  soon  as  she  saw  him  she 
came  running  eagerly  toward  him. 

**  How  nice  that  you  have  come  once  again !  " 
she  called  to  him.  *'  It  is  so  long  since  I  have  heard 
anything  of  you  !  It  is  Sunday,  and  you  could  come 
to-day  without  running  away,  so  we  will  be  happy 
all  the  afternoon." 

They  had  reached  the  wall ;  Gretchen  seated  her- 
self upon  it,  and  Renti  stood  before  her. 

"  No,  I  did  not  run  away,"  he  said  sullenly;  ** but 
at  five  I  am  to  be  back.  I  won't  do  it,  though;  the 
dog  isn't  here,  and  I  won't  go  home  until  dark  ;  I 
don't  care  what  happens." 


HOW   RKNTI    LEARNS   A   MOTTO  183 

'*  O  Renti !  are  you  beginning  your  bad  ways 
again  ? "  wailed  Gretchen .  "  They  said  that  at  Stony 
Acre  you  might  be  made  to  behave ;  but  now 
you  mean  to  disobey  your  mistress,  and  you  will 
get  a  whipping,  and  everything  will  be  as  bad  as 
before." 

''  It  has  been  all  the  time,"  Renti  replied,  cast- 
ing wild  looks  about,  and  growing  more  and  more 
violent  in  his  speech  as  he  proceeded.  ''If  she 
wants  to  thrash  me,  I  don't  care  ;  and  if  she  wants 
to  pound  me  to  death,  so  much  the  better.  It 's  all 
over  with  me  anyway.  If  I  could  only  chop  down 
every  tree  on  her  whole  farm  !  " 

'*  O  Renti,  Renti !  do  not  say  such  things ! "  cried 
Gretchen  in  terror ;  for  she  saw  in  imagination  the 
hideous  wish  fulfilled,  and  all  the  beautiful  trees 
lying  prone  upon  the  ground.  ''If  you  yield  to 
your  temper  in  this  way,  you  will  grow  worse  and 
worse,  and  finally  —  yes,  Renti,  father  said  that 
if  you  did  not  mend  your  ways  it  would  go  hard 
with  you.  Oh,  if  you  could  only  be  good  again,  as 
you  used  to  be  !"  And  Gretchen  covered  her  face 
with  both  hands  and  broke  out  into  bitter  weeping. 

Renti  threw  himself  on  the  ground,  moaning : 
"  I  can't  be  good  any  more  ;  I  don't  know  how, 
and  there  isn't  any  hope  for  me,  and  I'd  like  to 
die  this  minute! " 


l84  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

Then  Gretchen  dried  her  eyes  and  said  earnestly : 
"  There  is  help  for  you.  If  you  had  faith,  and  would 
pray,  you  would  feel  at  once  that  God  was  your 
friend." 

"But  how  can  God  help  me.?"  groaned  Renti, 
with  his  face  still  buried  in  the  ground. 

"  I  don't  know,  but  I  'm  sure  the  dear  God  knows, 
and  if  he  would  help  you,  you  might  be  good  again, 
as  you  used  to  be,  Renti.  Oh,  I  can't  bear  to  see 
you  so  changed  !  Do,  for  my  sake,  Renti,"  pleaded 
Gretchen,  entreatingly ;  "  do  try  to  be  good  !  Then 
we  shall  all  be  happy  again." 

"  Then  I  will,"  said  Renti,  rising  from  the  ground ; 
"  if  you  won't  cry  any  more,  and  won't  be  angry 
with  me  for  having  been  so  bad." 

"  No,  indeed  ;  indeed,  I  won't ! "  Gretchen  assured 
him.  *'But  I  wasn't  angry,  Renti;  I  was  only  sad; 
and  if  you  will  do  now  as  you  have  promised,  what 
good  times  we  shall  have  ! " 

"  Do  you  really  think  so .? "  Renti  asked  doubtfully, 
for  he  could  think  of  nothing  that  would  ever  make 
him  happy  again.  "But,  Gretchen,"  he  said  after  a 
moment's  reflection,  "  what  can  I  do  for  my  mistress 
to  make  things  come  as  you  say }  " 

"You  must  obey  at  once  when  she  speaks  to 
you,  and  you  must  do  your  work  properly.  You 
know  very  well  how  it  should  be  done,  if  you  only 


HOW   RENTI    LEARNS   A   MOTTO  185 

keep  your  wits  about  you.  And  whenever  bad 
thoughts  come  into  your  head  about  running  away 
and  about  chopping  down  trees,  you  must  pray. 
Then  the  dear  God  will  help  you  when  there  is  no 
other  comfort.    You  know  the  poem  says : 

"  For  if  your  faith  be  sure, 
And  your  courage  endure, 
God  will  be  your  friend." 

Renti  listened  attentively  to  all  that  Gretchen 
said.  After  thinking  the  matter  over,  he  said  reso- 
lutely, ''Yes,  I  will  try ;  but  will  you  come  here  to 
the  stone  wall  next  Sunday  afternoon,  so  that  I  can 
tell  you  how  I  have  succeeded  .-*" 

"Yes,  I  will  come,"  Gretchen  promised  him ;  *'but 
you  must  not  come  unless  you  have  permission,  else 
you  will  spoil  it  all  again.  Now  you  must  go  home; 
it  struck  four  a  long  time  ago." 

Renti  had  heard  it  and  knew  that  it  was  time  to 
go,  but  he  thought  he  could  stay  until  Gretchen  gave 
warning.  Wishing  to  show  that  he  was  in  earnest 
about  his  promise,  he  immediately  held  out  his  hand 
to  her  and  said,  ''Good-by."  Then  he  ran  down 
across  the  meadow  as  fast  as  he  could,  and  never 
paused  until  he  found  himself  at  Stony  Acre. 

When  his  mistress  saw  him  she  said:  "  It 's  well 
that  you  did  n't  try  to  play  any  of  your  tricks  to-day. 
Nero  was  ready  to  go  after  you." 


CHAPTER  VI 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL  IS  AMAZED 


Monday  came,  and  the  work  of  another  week 
began. 

"  I  wonder  what  has  got  into  the  boy  now  !  "  said 
the  housewife,  casting  suspicious  glances  at  Renti 
several  times  during  the  day.  On  Tuesday  it  was 
the  same,  and  the  woman  at  length  exclaimed : 
*'  What  can  be  going  on  in  his  head  .'*  I  don't  know 
what  to  make  of  him." 

Renti  never  answered  a  word.  He  gave  no  more 
saucy  retorts ;  his  impudence  was  gone ;  but  he 
looked  as  though  he  were  being  crushed  to  the 
earth  by  some  awful  burden.  He  had  to  struggle 
continually  to  keep  his  promise.  To  do  at  once  as 
he  was  told,  to  practice  self-control,  to  keep  back 
saucy  answers,  required  such  exertion  on  his  part 
that  his  head  was  bent  low  under  the  strain  and 
he  hardly  saw  what  was  going  on  about  him.  Then 
it  was  very  difficult,  too,  to  keep  his  thoughts  upon 

i86 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL   IS   AMAZED  1S7 

his  work,  so  that  he  could  do  it  properly,  for  he 
had  to  pray  away  the  temptations  to  do  bad  things. 
What  prayer  could  he  think  of  quick  enough  to 
conquer  them  ?  Then  he  remembered  Gretchen's 
verses,  and  whenever  bad  thoughts  threatened  to 
rise  he  would  say  : 

"  For  if  your  faith  be  sure, 
And  your  courage  endure, 
God  will  be  your  friend." 

But  sometimes  the  thoughts  rushed  over  him  so 
suddenly  that  in  his  excitement  he  could  not  re- 
member the  verse,  and  he  would  have  to  stop  and 
think  and  at  the  same  time  keep  on  with  his  work. 
All  this  was  such  a  strain  upon  the  boy  that  he 
grew  pale  and  lost  his  appetite. 

*'He  is  an  artful  hypocrite,"  said  the  woman, 
when  Wednesday  came  and  Renti  continued  as  he 
had  begun  on  Monday.  <*  If  I  could  only  make  out 
what  it  is  he  's  plotting.  I  have  conquered  many 
another  fellow,  but  I  never  saw  one  like  him." 

When  Renti  continued  the  same  on  Thursday 
and  Friday,  keeping  his  eyes  on  the  ground,  speak- 
ing never  a  word,  and  growing  paler  and  paler, 
the  woman  stopped  scolding.  She  began  to  feel 
queer  about  the  boy.  She  watched  him  anxiously 
from  the  corner  of  her  eye,  as  though  she  were  in 


1 88  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

constant  fear  of  some  new  outbreak.  On  Saturday 
Renti  scarcely  tasted  food  ;  and  then  a  hideous 
thought  occurred  to  her :  What  if  the  boy  had  eaten 
some  of  the  rat  poison  from  the  kitchen  cupboard ! 

She  immediately  began  questioning  him  :  •*  Do 
you  feel  sick  ?    Answer  quickly  !    Have  you  pain  ?  " 

"No,"  said  the  boy,  without  lifting  his  head  ;  he 
was  still  struggling. 

''There  is  something  uncanny  about  him.  Per- 
haps he  is  a  vampire!  "  she  thought,  in  sudden 
terror.  She  had  once  heard  of  a  person  whom  no 
one  dared  to  look  upon  because  he  was  a  vampire. 
"I  wish  I  had  never  laid  eyes  on  the  boy!"  she 
exclaimed,  incensed  at  her  own  weakness;  and  she 
darted  about  all  day  as  though  driven  by  an  evil 
spirit.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  she  felt  help- 
less. The  idea  of  not  being  able  to  master  a  young 
boy  seemed  absurd,  but  she  was  really  so  uncom- 
fortable about  him  that  she  would  much  rather  have 
had  nothing  more  to  do  with  him.  She  would  go 
to  church  to-morrow,  at  any  rate,  and  tell  her  friends 
what  a  time  she  was  having,  and  what  a  strain  it 
was  on  one's  patience.  That  would  be  some  relief, 
she  thought. 

As  soon  as  church  was  out  a  group  of  people 
gathered  about  her,  all  curious  to  hear  how  she 
was  getting  on  with  the  boy. 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL   IS   AMAZED  189 

Then  she  poured  forth  her  tale,  growing  quite 
breathless  in  the  eagerness  of  her  telling.  *'Yes, 
yes  ;  if  you  only  knew  him  !  He  is  deep,  I  can 
tell  you.  Control  him  ?  If  you  could  do  that,  you 
could  work  miracles.  Since  Monday  he  has  taken 
a  new  turn.  Now  he  doesn't  say  a  word,  —  gives 
no  answer,  but  hangs  his  head  to  the  ground  and 
broods  all  day.  What  he  may  be  hatching  out  will 
come  to  light  soon  enough.  Of  course  we  can't  tell 
what  it  may  be;  but,"  she  continued,  with  a  mys- 
terious nodding  of  the  head,  "there  is  something 
queer  about  the  boy.  I  will  not  say  what  I  think. 
You  will  find  out  for  yourselves." 

At  that  the  mistress  of  Lindenhof  stepped  forth 
from  the  group,  and,  confronting  the  woman  of 
Stony  Acre,  said  in  distinct  tones  that  were  heard 
by  all  those  present  :  *'  I  want  to  say  a  few  words 
in  this  matter.  A  week  ago  the  complaint  against 
the  boy  was  that  he  gave  back  saucy  answers  and 
was  insolent  in  his  speech  ;  to-day  it  is  that  he 
gives  no  answer  and  says  nothing.  So  I  should  like 
to  ask  what  he  could  do  to  be  satisfactory  ?  It 
seems  to  me  that  if  the  boy  is  becoming  so  bad, 
there  must  be  some  cause  in  the  treatment  he 
receives." 

The  mistress  of  Stony  Acre  started  up  as  though 
a  wasp  had  stung  her.    "In  my  opinion,"  she  replied 


IQO  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

angrily,  ''it  is  much  easier  to  send  away  a  boy  when 
he  grows  troublesome  than  it  is  to  take  one  whom 
no  one  else  wants.    What  do  you  think  ? " 

The  woman  of  Lindenhof  answered  in  calm  and 
measured  tones :  ''It  was  not  on  account  of  his 
behavior  that  I  sent  the  boy  away,  but  simply  be- 
cause we  had  made  other  arrangements  about  our 
help.  As  long  as  Renti  was  with  us  he  was  a 
good  boy,  and  I  should  not  mind  taking  him  back 
this  very  day." 

"Indeed!"  said  her  angry  opponent.  "Words 
are  cheap  and  make  a  good  sound.  Many  another 
mistress  would  find  it  best  to  'make  other  arrange- 
ments '  to  get  rid  of  such  a  boy." 

Then  the  other  held  up  her  head  stiffly  and  said, 
as  she  looked  the  angry  woman  squarely  in  the 
face:  "I  am  ready  to  stand  by  my  words.  Here 
before  these  people  I  say  that  I  am  not  afraid  to 
take  the  boy  back  into  my  house ;  and  I  will  prove 
it."  With  that  she  passed  out  of  the  group  and 
went  away. 

"She  means  what  she  says;  she  will  do  it,"  said 
one  woman.  Another  said:  "I  am  curious  to  see 
how  the  affair  will  turn  out.  Do  you  think  she  will 
master  him  .?" 

The  excitement  over  the  matter  grew,  and  parti- 
sanship for  and  against  the  contestants  drew  forth 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL  IS   AMAZED  191 

many  different  opinions.  Some  said,  *'She  of  Lin- 
denhof  will  never  do  it;  she  will  leave  the  boy 
where  he  is."  Others  said,  "  If  she  does  take  him, 
she  will  get  rid  of  him  before  long ;  for  if  he  is  too 
much  for  the  woman  of  Stony  Acre,  he  will  never 
be  conquered  by  her  of  Lindenhof." 

The  wives  all  went  home  so  excited  that  their 
husbands  became  interested,  too,  and  in  all  Busch- 
weil  that  day  people  were  talking  of  the  probable 
outcome  of  the  matter  between  Renti  and  the  two 
women  who  had  quarreled  over  him. 

Gretchen's  mother  alone  of  all  the  women  had 
not  stopped  after  church,  but  had  gone  directly 
home  with  the  rest  of  her  family ;  so  at  The  Alders 
they  knew  nothing  of  the  occurrence. 

The  mistress  of  Stony  Acre  came  home  in  a  bad 
mood;  the  encounter  had  been  extremely  irritating 
to  her.  Never  before  had  she  been  accused  of  treat- 
ing her  servants  badly.  How  dared  any  one  sug- 
gest such  a  thing  to  her  ? 

The  first  person  she  saw  on  entering  the  house 
was  Renti.  He  was  sitting  on  a  stool  in  the  kitchen 
paring  potatoes,  as  she  had  directed  him  to  do.  All 
the  morning  he  had  had  but  one  thought,  which  he 
had  been  turning  over  and  over  in  his  mind,  —  that 
this  afternoon  he  was  going  to  find  Gretchen  by  the 
stone  wall,  and  tell  her  how  obedient  he  had  been 


192  THE    LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

all  the  week  and  how  hard  he  had  tried  to  do  right, 
and  she  would  surely  be  very  much  pleased. 

"  You  are  not  going  to  stir  a  step  from  the  house 
to-day,"  the  woman  exclaimed  as  she  entered  the 
room.  "  You  went  last  Sunday,  and  I  'm  sure  your 
vagabonding  did  you  no  good." 

It  was  a  hard  blow  for  Renti.  All  through  his 
struggles  during  the  week  he  had  looked  forward 
to  Sunday  afternoon ;  and  now  —  he  must  stay  at 
home  and  face  another  long  week  like  the  last  one. 
At  the  thought  a  sudden  flame  of  anger  blazed  up 
within  him  and  he  muttered  between  his  clinched 
teeth,  "What  you  deserve  is  to  have  all  your  trees 
and  your  house  and  your  barn  and  your  cattle"  — 
''chopped  down,"  he  was  about  to  say;  but  suddenly 
he  saw  Gretchen  before  him  and  remembered  how 
she  had  wept  and  entreated  He  made  a  tremendous 
effort,  struggling  as  never  before  to  recall  his  verse, 
and  then  finally,  when  it  came  to  him,  saying  it  over 
and  over,  — 

"  For  if  your  faith  be  sure, 
And  your  courage  endure,  ♦ 

God  will  be  your  friend,"  — 

until  the  evil  thoughts  were  banished. 

When  the  afternoon  sun  lay  bright  and  pleasant 
on  the  meadows  the  mistress  of  Lindenhof  stepped 
forth  in  Sunday  array  from  her  door.    She  stopped 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL    IS   AMAZED  193 

on  her  way  through  the  garden  to  pick  a  fine  red 
carnation,  and  with  this  in  her  hand  she  went  out 
into  the  road,  and  then  across  the  fields.  Her  face 
showed  that  many  thoughts  were  at  work  in  her 
mind.  She  realized  that  the  errand  before  her  was 
one  of  consequence.  She  had  involved  herself  that 
morning  in  something  for  which  she  had  not  planned ; 
but  one  word  had  led  to  another,  until  she  had  at 
last  committed  herself  to  a  statement  that  she  did 
not  want  to  take  back,  —  for  she  always  stood  by 
her  word.  When  she  told  her  husband  of  what  had 
happened,  he  agreed  with  her  entirely,  and  said  : 
"  Of  course  you  must  take  the  boy.  If  he  proves 
too  much  of  a  trial,  we  will  send  him  to  our  son-in- 
law,  who  is  young  and  strong  and  has  several 
hired  men,  and  among  them  they  will  manage  the 
boy.  I  will  gladly  let  them  have  the  fruit  of  one  or 
two  of  our  trees  in  the  fall  to  make  up  for  it,  rather 
than  to  have  noise  and  wrangling  in  the  house." 

The  wife  thought  this  all  over,  but  the  calm  seren- 
ity with  which  she  usually  ended  her  reflections  was 
not  within  her  reach  to-day.  She  could  not  dispose 
of  the  problem  so  easily  as  her  husband  had,  for 
she  had  made  up  her  mind  to  keep  the  boy,  no 
matter  how  wild,  or  lazy,  or  unmanageable  he  might 
be.  The  woman  of  Stony  Acre  should  not  have 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  her  defeated  ;  nor  did  she 


194  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

wish  it  said  by  the  other  women  that  she  made 
statements  that  she  could  not  carry  out. 

But  if  the  boy  had  really  grown  so  wild  and  stub- 
born, what  would  become  of  the  peace  of  her  home, 
and  her  quiet,  orderly  life  ?  This  thought  made  her 
uncomfortable,  for  she  disHked  harsh  words  and 
rude  manners  ;  they  were  unknown  in  her  house- 
hold. When  she  thought  of  Renti,  however,  and  of 
what  a  good  boy  he  had  formerly  been,  she  said  to 
herself  :  "  He  cannot  be  altogether  bad.  He  is  still 
young,  and  God  willing  we  will  make  something  of 
him  yet.  Kindness  and  reason  will  accomplish  a 
great  deal." 

She  had  now  reached  Stony  Acre.  As  she  en- 
tered the  living  room  she  saw  that  the  housewife 
was  sitting  alone ;  the  other  members  of  the  family 
were  all  out.  Some  had  not  come  home  and  others 
were  in  the  stables  feeding  the  stock. 

"Ah  !  "  said  the  hostess  stiffly;  '*it  is  an  uncom- 
mon honor  to  see  you  here.    Will  you  sit  down? 

''I  have  come  to  keep  my  word,"  answered  the 
visitor  in  firm  tones,  without  noticing  the  proffered 
seat. 

"Indeed?  You  are  in  earnest?  "  And  the  hostess 
tried  to  twist  her  mouth  into  a  smile.  "  The  boy  is 
in  the  barn  ;  I  will  call  him."  She  went  toward  the 
barn,  the  other  woman  following  her. 


i 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL  IS   AMAZED  195 

Upon  hearing  his  name  called,  Renti  appeared  in 
the  barn  door.  When  he  saw  the  mistress  of  Lin- 
denhof  he  started  impulsively  toward  her,  but  sud- 
denly checked  himself,  and  hanging  his  head  came 
slowly  forward ;  for  his  first  joy  at  seeing  the 
mistress  with  whom  he  had  once  been  so  happy 
immediately  gave  place  to  the  conviction  that  she 
must  be  angry  with  him,  as  everybody  else  was,  for 
having  been  so  bad.  She  had  noticed  his  start  of 
joy,  however,  and  now  held  out  her  hand  toward 
him  smilingly  and  said,  "Come,  Renti;  you  need 
not  be  afraid." 

"He  probably  has  good  reason  for  being  afraid," 
said  the  woman  of  Stony  Acre  sharply. 

He  felt  that  he  had  indeed,  and  his  head 
dropped  lower  and  lower.  The  visitor  watched 
him  closely. 

"Renti,"  she  said,  "what  do  you  say  to  going 
home  with  me  .-*  " 

Renti 's  head  went  up  at  that ;  he  thought  he 
was  to  take  a  walk  to  Lindenhof,  and  that  would 
be  fine.  But  his  mistress  had  forbidden  him  to  go 
away  to-day.  He  looked  at  her  question ingly ;  she 
said  nothing. 

"Well,  get  your  bundle  and  we  will  be  off,"  said 
the  visitor. 

Renti  looked  up  with  wide  eyes. 


196  THE   LITTLE  RUNAWAY 

"Do  you  mean  —  to  live?"  he  said  at  length, 
hesitatingly. 

♦*  Yes,  yes ;  that 's  what  I  mean,"  she  assured 
him. 

A  look  of  joy  shot  into  his  eyes  that  touched  the 
woman's  heart. 

"  How  glad  he  seems  to  go  with  me! "  she  thought 
with  pleasure. 

Renti  darted  away  to  fetch  his  bundle,  and  in  a 
very  few  minutes  wa^  back  with  it;  he  had  little 
to  pack. 

"  There  is  nothing  more  to  arrange,  I  think,"  said 
the  visitor. 

"Nothing,"  answered  the  hostess  shortly.  "I 
wish  you  joy." 

But  the  woman  of  Lindenhof  paused.  *'  Renti," 
she  said,  ''don't  you  want  to  tell  your  master  'God 
keep  you  '.^" 

"  It  is  not  necessary,"  said  the  other  woman. 

But  Renti  had  been  accustomed  to  obey  his  for- 
mer mistress  on  the  instant,  and  when  she  spoke 
he  immediately  ran  to  the  barn.  Returning  in  a 
moment,  he  made  his  adieus  to  the  wife.  They 
were  short  ;  she  did  not  desire  many  words. 

Then  Renti  walked  along  beside  his  old  mistress 
toward  Lindenhof.  He  was  making  the  journey 
this  time  with  a  clear  conscience,  and  before  him 


ALL   BUSCHWEIL   IS   AMAZED  197 

lay  the  prospect,  not  of  a  few  anxious,  homesick 
hours,  but  of  the  old  happy  life.  He  was  to  stay 
there,  live  there,  be  at  home  once  more  in  the  dear 
place.  He  could  hardly  realize  such  happiness. 
Every  now  and  then  he  would  look  up  at  the 
woman  to  see  whether  it  could  really  be  true.  She 
was  going  her  way  silently;  she  was  again  busy 
with  her  thoughts.  So  far  the  matter  had  turned 
out  quite  differently  from  her  expectations.  Could 
the  boy  be  merely  playing  a  part,  she  wondered, 
and  would  he  show  himself  in  quite  another  light 
when  it  came  to  working  and  doing  as  he  was  told  .-* 

There  was  nothing  saucy,  nothing  insolent,  noth- 
ing uncanny  about  him,  so  far  as  she  could  see.  He 
seemed  to  be  just  the  same  cheerful,  willing  little  fel- 
low that  she  had  always  known.  But  his  blouse  was 
very  shabby  and  his  little  trousers  most  disreputable 
looking  for  Sunday,  and  his  whole  appearance  was 
not  clean  and  well  kept,  as  it  had  formerly  been. 

''Renti,"  she  said,  looking  him  over,  *'are  these 
your  Sunday  clothes  ?  " 

"  Yes,"  he  answered,  blushing  ;  "in  the  bundle  I 
have  only  torn  ones.  I  have  been  wearing  these  on 
Sundays  and  week  days,  too,  for  a  long  time." 

"That  blouse  looks  to  me  like  the  very  one  I 
gave  you  for  your  Sunday  suit.  Have  you  had 
nothing  new  since  then  >  " 


198  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

**  No,  this  is  all  I  have,"  said  Renti  meekly;  fori 
he  thought  the  woman  was  displeased  with  him  for 
the  way  he  looked. 

**  It  is  not  your  fault,"  she  said,  noticing  his 
embarrassment.  "  But  now,  Renti,  you  mean  to 
obey  me,  and  to  do  what  is  right,  don't  you  ? " 

*'  Yes,  yes;  indeed  I  do  !  "  said  Renti,  smiling  up 
at  her  with  the  old  honest  look  in  his  face.  His 
words,  too,  sounded  so  hearty  and  natural  that  the 
woman  could  only  wonder  more  and  more. 

When  they  came  within  sight  of  Lindenhof  Renti's 
eyes  sparkled.  ''  There  is  the  roof !  "  he  cried.  "  Do 
you  really  mean  that  I  am  to  stay  here  again  ? " 

"The  staying  depends  very  much  upon  you,  Renti ; 
but  if  you  walk  so  fast  I  cannot  keep  up  with  you." 

The  boy  could  hardly  hold  back  his  steps  as  they 
approached  the  house.  Suddenly  he  asked  :  **  May 
I  run  up  to  the  alder  meadow  for  a  moment  ?  I  will 
come  right  back." 

The  woman  looked  at  him  sharply.  "  Renti,"  she 
said,  "you  aren't  thinking  of  running  away  already, 
are  you  .? " 

**Oh,  no;  I  am  here  now,  you  see.  Where  could 
I  run  ?"  he  said  with  a  happy  smile. 

The  woman  shook  her  head  as  though  she  did 
not  understand.  "  What  do  you  want  in  the  alder 
meadow.? " 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL  IS  AMAZED  199 

*'Only  to  run  over  and  tell  Gretchen  about  it; 
then  I  will  come  right  back." 

"  Then  run,"  she  said  in  kindly  tones ;  but  it  all 
seemed  most  extraordinary  to  her. 

Renti  ran  as  fast  as  he  could.  Gretchen  was 
still  sitting  on  the  wall,  but  she  looked  sad,  for 
she  thought  Renti  was  not  coming  ;  perhaps  he 
was  in  trouble  again. 

''Gretchen,  Gretchen  !  "  she  suddenly  heard  him 
call.  He  was  running  toward  her,  waving  his 
arms  in  the  air  and  calling  excitedly,  "Gretchen, 
Gretchen !   I  am  at  home  again  !  " 

Gretchen  had  not  the  slightest  idea  what  he 
meant,  but  she  ran  toward  him  eagerly.  When 
they  met,  Renti  was  so  excited  and  so  happy  that 
he  could  hardly  tell  his  story;  he  had  to  shout 
aloud,  turn  somersaults,  and  leap  into  the  air  for  a 
while.  When  Gretchen  finally  began  to  understand 
that  Renti's  old  mistress  had  gone  to  get  him  and 
that  he  was  now  to  live  at  Lindenhof  again,  she  also 
broke  forth  into  shouts  of  joy,  and  cried  out  again 
and  again  :  "O  Renti!  now  we  shall  be  happy  as 
we  used  to  be.  And  you  will  be  here  for  the  herd- 
ing !  Oh,  I  am  so  glad,  so  glad  !  I  have  been  think- 
ing how  sad  it  would  be  when  I  had  to  come  to 
pasture  all  alone,  and  you  were  far  away  herding 
other  cows.    But  now  we  '11  be  together  again."  And 


200  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

at  the  thought  they  both  became  so  hilarious  that 
the  neighboring  hills  entered  into  their  joy  and 
repeated  the  merry  shouts. 

**Renti,"  said  Gretchen  suddenly,  in  thoughtful 
tones,  — she  always  was  a  meditative  little  Gretchen, 
—  ''why  was  it  that  the  mistress  of  Lindenhof  so 
suddenly  took  your  part,  when  all  the  other  people 
said  they  did  not  want  you  because  you  were  good 
for  nothing  ?  It  could  not  have  been  on  account  of 
the  work  that  she  took  you." 

''  No,  I  don't  believe  it  was,"  said  Renti  rather 
shamefacedly;  ''but  I  don't  know  what  other  rea- 
son she  could  have  had." 

Then  Gretchen  said  earnestly :  "  Renti,  I  believe 
that  God  put  it  into  her  mind  to  go  and  bring  you 
home.  I  have  been  praying  to  him  every  day;  for 
though  I  saw  no  way  out  of  your  troubles,  I  trusted 
God,  and  knew  that  he  would  find  a  way  to  help 
you." 

*'0h,  there  is  something  I  have  not  told  you  ! " 
exclaimed  Renti.  "  I  kept  my  promise  all  the  week 
about  praying  away  the  bad  words  and  evil  thoughts 
when  they  tried  to  arise,  and  kept  saying  over 
and  over, 

"  For  if  your  faith  be  sure, 
And  your  courage  endure, 
God  will  be  your  friend." 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL   LS   AMAZED  201 

"And  see  how  it  has  come  true !  We  trusted 
God  and  he  has  given  us  our  reward,"  said  Gret- 
chen  joyfully. 

Now  it  was  Renti's  turn  to  look  thoughtful. 
Suddenly  he  said,  ''  I  had  n't  thought  of  that  be- 
fore,"—  for  he  had  been  saying  the  verse  merely 
as  a  remedy  against  bad  words  and  thoughts,  with- 
out thinking  much  about  its  meaning ;  but  now  he 
began  to  understand  that  God  was  ready,  if  one 
turned  to  him,  to  do  a  great  deal  more  than  one 
really  asked  of  him. 

These  meditations  kept  Renti  very  thoughtful 
for  a  while  ;  then  he  suddenly  realized  that  it  was 
time  for  him  to  go,  and  he  hastily  bade  Gretchen 
good  night  and  started  down  the  hill. 

'*  Good  night,  Renti !  "  she  called  after  him  hap- 
pily, and  they  went  their  separate  ways. 

As  Renti  neared  the  house  he  broke  forth  into 
a  loud,  ringing  yodel. 

'*  That  does  n't  sound  like  a  sneaking  hypocrite," 
said  the  farmer's  wife  to  herself,  as  she  passed 
through  the  garden.  Before  she  reached  the  door 
Renti  was  by  her  side. 

*'  May  I  run  out  to  the  barn  a  moment  ?  "  he  asked. 

"I  am  willing,"  the  woman  answered. 

Renti  darted  off  toward  the  stables,  and  going 
up  to  Brindle's  stall  put  his  arms  about  her  neck 


202  THE    LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

and  said,  *'  Brindle,  dear  Br  indie,  do  you  know  me  ?  " 
And  Brindle  answered  so  lustily  that  all  the  other 
cows  joined  in,  and  Renti  received  a  welcome  that 
made  the  rafters  tremble. 

Then  he  went  up  to  the  hayloft,  and  from  there 
climbed  still  higher  to  the  upper  floor.  Here  he 
scrambled  around  in  all  the  corners,  and  when  he 
came  down  he  had  his  cap  full  of  eggs. 

When  he  entered  the  kitchen  the  housewife  was  at 
her  usual  evening  duties.  Seeing  him  she  stopped  and 
exclaimed,  **  Where  did  you  find  so  many  fine  eggs  ? " 

"  In  the  barn,"  said  Renti  with  shining  eyes. 
"  Look  at  these !  and  these !  Here  are  Brown  Betty's, 
and  here  are  Snow  White's,  and  these  are  from  the 
speckled  Bobtail,  and  these  from  the  two  young 
hens.  What  fine  ones  !  "  And  Renti  laid  them  all 
out  on  the  table,  as  eager  and  interested  as  though 
they  were  all  his  own  property. 

"  Now  look  at  that !  "  exclaimed  the  woman,  view- 
ing the  collection  admiringly.  "Andrew  has  been 
telling  me  all  along  that  my  hens  were  not  good 
layers ;  and  I  always  had  the  best  hens  in  the  parish. 
The  trouble  has  simply  been  that  he  did  not  know 
where  to  look  for  the  eggs.  How  did  you  know 
where  to  find  them,  Renti  ? " 

*<  I  have  always  known,"  said  Renti;  "and  I 
know  of  other  nests  that  I  have  not  searched  yet. 


203 


204  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

I  used  to  watch  to  see  where  every  hen  laid  her 
eggs.    But  now  I  must  fetch  the  wood." 

And  he  went  eagerly  to  work,  running  to  and  fro 
as  swift  as  a  weasel.  He  asked  no  questions;  he 
knew  just  what  had  to  be  done.  When  the  wood 
box  was  full  to  overflowing,  he  picked  up  the  water 
bucket  and  filled  all  the  vessels  to  the  brim.  After 
that  he  brought  out  shoe  brushes  and  blacking  from 
a  box  on  the  floor,  and  seating  himself  on  a  little 
three-legged  stool  in  the  corner,  he  took  up  the 
shoes,  one  after  anothe|-,  that  stood  in  a  row  by  the 
wall,  brushing  and  polishing  them  with  all  his  might. 

The  mistress  looked  at  him,  shaking  her  head 
in  a  puzzled  sort  of  way,  and  said  nothing.  Never, 
since  Andrew,  the  young  hired  man,  came  into  the 
house,  had  she  been  so  beautifully  served.  She 
had  never  complained,  because  she  would  have  no 
unpleasantness  in  her  home  ;  but  now  that  every- 
thing was  being  done  so  nicely,  without  a  word 
from  her  and  without  the  clatter  of  heavy  feet,  the 
woman  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  and  could  hardly 
keep  from  telling  Renti  what  a  load  was  falling 
from  her.  But  she  did  not  want  to  spoil  him.  Yet 
how  was  it  possible  that  this  was  the  boy  whom 
nobody  wanted  ? 

The  farmer  came  home  a  Httle  later  than  usual 
that  day.   He  was  somewhat  nervous,  for  he  thought 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL   IS   AMAZED 


his  wife  would  be  full  of  complaints  about  the  boy, 
and  he  did  not  want  to  hear  them. 

He  was  surprised  to  find,  when  he  entered  the 
room,  that  she  had  not  a  word  to  say  and  that  she  did 
not  look  at  all  worried,  and  he  sat  down  to  his  supper 
with  a  little  sigh  of  relief.  Again  he  was  surprised  to 
find  how  soHcitous  his  wife  was  about  keeping  the 
boy's  plate  filled  with  good  things,  while  Renti  mean- 
while was  gazing  about  the  room  with  beaming  eyes, 
apparently  finding  new  delight  in  every  detail  of  the 
old  Dutch  stove,  and  dwelling  on  the  gray  purring 
cat  as  the  most  beautiful  object  in  all  the  world. 

After  supper  the  woman  said,  **  Renti,  you  know 
the  way  to  your  room.  Your  bed  is  just  where  it 
used  to  be."  ' 

When  Renti  found  himself  in  his  own  dear  little 
room  once  more  his  joy  was  complete,  and  he  felt 
like  shouting  and  yodeling;  but  of  course  that  would 
not  have  been  fitting,  so  he  sat  down  on  the  edge 
of  his  bed  —  for  he  was  too  happy  to  sleep  —  and 
thought  over  all  that  had  happened,  and  how  it 
was  that  he  was  back  here  once  more.  He  recalled 
what  Gretchen  had  said,  and  he  felt  very  thankful 
that  the  dear  God  had  come  to  his  help  as  soon  as 
he  had  tried  to  do  right. 

Downstairs  the  man  was  saying  to  his  wife,  **  He 
is  not  so  bad  as  you  expected,  is  he  .-^ " 


2o6  THE   LITTLE  RUNAWAY 

Thereupon  the  wife  broke  forth  into  such  expres- 
sions of  joy  and  praise  that  the  man  hstened  in 
amazement  and  finally  said :  "  Be  on  your  guard. 
There  must  be  something  wrong  about  him,  and 
you  will  probably  discover  it  soon  enough." 

The  wife  said  she  would  watch  the  boy  carefully 
before  she  put  her  full  trust  in  him.  Her  worst  fear 
was  that  Renti  had  fallen  into  bad  company  and 
had  in  that  way  learned  to  run  away,  and  that  he 
might  be  misled  again.  She  determined  to  keep  him 
at  home  altogether  for  a  week,  so  that  she  might 
know  what  he  was  about. 

Monday  came ;  from  morning  till  evening  Renti 
ran  about,  here  and  there,  from  one  to  another, 
helping  now  the  farmer,  now  the  wife,  now  the 
hired  man.  He  knew  just  what  was  needed  and 
what  was  to  be  done,  for  he  knew  the  orderly, 
systematic  work  of  the  place,  and  was  everywhere 
apt  and  as  quick  as  a  flash.  His  whole  heart  and 
mind  were  in  the  work,  for  he  loved  the  dear 
familiar  tasks  ;  he  was  at  home  once  more. 

It  was  the  same  on  Tuesday,  on  Wednesday,  and 
on  Thursday.  The  farmer  seemed  to  have  four 
hands  ;  his  work  was  done  before  he  knew  it.  When 
he  needed  help  anywhere  Renti  was  immediately 
beside  him,  even  before  he  called  ready  for  the  next 
step  in  the  work. 


ALL   BUSCHWEIL   IS   AMAZED  20/ 

On  Thursday  the  hired  man  said  to  his  master  : 
''I'd  rather  get  along  with  just  the  boy.  He  is 
three  times  as  quick  as  Andrew  ;  he  knows  the 
work  and  is  always  willing  ;  and  even  if  Andrew  has 
the  advantage  in  strength,  the  little  fellow  makes 
up  for  it  with  his  good  sense  and  intelligence." 

This  was  exactly  what  the  farmer  wanted;  but  he 
had  been  holding  back  to  see  how  the  boy  would 
turn  out,  and  whether  he  would  show  any  bad  tricks. 

When  the  farmer  spoke  to  his  wife  about  the 
matter,  she  exclaimed  :  '*  Thank  goodness  !  Now  I 
shall  be  rid  of  those  clumping  feet  in  my  kitchen. 
When  I  have  the  boy  alone  with  me  I  feel  as 
though  I  were  in  heaven." 

But  she  had  not  yet  satisfied  herself  in  regard 
to  the  boy's  companionship.  So  one  evening  when 
the  other  servants  had  gone  to  bed  and  the  farmer 
was  busy  about  his  last  duties  in  the  barn,  she 
called  to  the  boy  to  come  and  sit  down  beside  her 
at  the  table  ;  she  wanted  to  have  a  serious  talk 
with  him. 

**  Now  be  honest,  Renti,  and  tell  me  where  you 
used  to  spend  your  time  when  you  ran  away  and 
went  tramping.  Tell  me  just  exactly  who  was 
with  you." 

Renti  was  a  little  frightened  to  have  his  evil  days 
thus  brought  up  before  him,  and  he  said  in  a  meek, 


208  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

penitent  voice  :  ''I  always  ran  straight  home,  back 
hereto  Lindenhof;  and  then  I  would  sit  out  behind 
the  barn,  or  I  would  go  into  the  shed  sometimes; 
when  no  one  was  looking,  and  would  coax  the  hens 
to  me.  I  used  to  stay  with  them  a  long  time,  and 
sometimes  I  climbed  up  in  the  barn  where  I  could 
look  down  on  the  cows." 

The  woman  scrutinized  the  boy  closely  without 
speaking.  She  knew  he  was  telling  the  truth.  Fin- 
ally she  said,  ''  But,  Renti,  why  did  you  never  come 
in  to  see  me,  if  you  felt  so .?  " 

Renti  hung  his  head  and  said:  ''On  Sundays, 
when  I  might  have  come,  I  had  been  running  away 
all  the  week,  because  I  could  not  keep  away  from 
here ;  and  then  I  thought  you  must  be  angry 
with  me." 

Now  the  woman  began  to  understand  her  little 
friend.  It  was  out  of  pure  devotion  to  her  and  her 
house  that  the  boy  had  fallen  into  evil  ways.  She 
must  make  amends  to  him ;  she  was  touched  by 
the  discovery  she  had  made.  What  a  load  he  had 
taken  from  her  !  She  need  fear  no  bad  companions, 
no  tempters,  who  would  come  after  the  boy  to  lure 
him  away.  Trickery  and  hidden  malice  were  out  of 
the  question.  She  might  dismiss  forever  the  dread 
of  having  to  send  the  boy  away,  thus  letting  the 
woman  of  Stony  Acre  triumph  over  her  and  giving 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL   IS   AMAZED  209 

the  other  women  a  chance  to  express  sympathy. 
Best  of  all,  though,  was  the  thought  that  she  was 
now  going  to  have  the  nimble,  happy,  devoted  little 
fellow  to  serve  her  again.  She  had  always  liked 
him  and  now  felt  more  attached  to  him  than  ever. 

"Renti,"  she  said  at  last,  with  a  voice  full  of 
emotion,  ''you  must  have  no  more  fears.  As  long 
as  I  am  at  Lindenhof  you  shall  have  a  home  here." 

A  happier  boy  than  Renti  was  that  night  could 
not  have  been  found  in  all  the  parish  of  Buschweil. 

And  the  farmer  was  so  glad  at  the  turn  things 
had  taken,  and  the  way  in  which  his  work  was  being 
done,  that  he  would  stop  in  the  fields  to  tell  people 
all  about  his  wife's  wonderful  achievement  in  mak- 
ing a  model  boy  out  of  Renti.  The  hired  man,  who 
had  always  found  Andrew  too  clumsy  to  be  of  much 
assistance,  heard  with  satisfaction  that  the  little 
fellow  was  now  to  take  his  place,  and  he  went 
about  telling  people  that  his  mistress  had  but  to 
look  at  a  boy  and  she  could  do  anything  with  him. 

So,  before  another  Sunday  came,  everybody  in 
Buschweil  had  heard  the  news  and  was  talking 
about  the  way  Renti  had  been  reformed  in  one 
week.  It  sounded  so  improbable  that  most  people 
rather  doubted  the  truth  of  the  report. 

But  the  mistress  of  Lindenhof  said  that  they 
would  see  on  Sunday  that  she  was  not  afraid  to 


2IO  THE   LITTLE   RUNAWAY 

come  out  with  her  boy.  She  fitted  him  out  with 
new  clothes  from  head  to  foot,  finishing  off  with 
a  Httle  black  cap  that  set  off  his  bright  face  and 
dancing  eyes  most  jauntily. 

As  Renti  walked  home  from  church  beside  his 
mistress,  many  a  head  was  turned  to  look  after  them. 
*'  Can  that  be  the  boy  whom  no  one  wanted.? "  said 
one.  Others  said,  "  No  one  else  in  the  world  could 
have  accomplished  what  she  has  with  the  boy."  And 
all  seemed  pleased  with  her  success. 

The  woman  of  Stony  Acre  alone  did  not  care  to 
talk  about  the  wonder  that  had  been  wrought 
at  Lindenhof.  She  walked  straight  home  without 
once  looking  round.  The  woman  of  Lindenhof  also 
went  her  way ;  she  did  not  care  to  boast,  or  to  be 
flattered  for  what  she  had  done  ;  she  merely  wanted 
people  to  know  that  Renti  was  not  the  good  for 
nothing  that  they  thought  him.  He  should  have 
his  good  name  back,  she  said. 

On  the  way  home  she  fell  in  with  the  family 
from  The  Alders.  They  had  heard  the  news  and 
greeted  Renti  pleasantly  when  they  saw  him ;  but 
Gretchen  was  beaming  with  joy  to  find  that  he  was 
now  one  of  the  very  best  looking  boys  in  all  the 
parish,  and  to  know  that,  being  part  of  a  well- 
ordered  household  once  more,  he  would  henceforth 
come  to  school  and  to  church  regularly. 


ALL  BUSCHWEIL   IS  AMAZED 


21  I 


Since  that  day  the  lessons  in  Sunday  school  have 
had  a  new  interest  for  the  little  girl.  She  has  found 
out  that  the  verses  she  learns  may  be  of  great  help 
and  comfort  if  one  will  try  to  think  them  out ;  and 
sometimes,  when  she  is  called  upon  for  her  old 
verse,  a  particular  earnestness  comes  into  her  voice 
that  makes  some  one  mother  say  to  another,  as 
they  come  from  church  :  ^'Gretchen's  verses  to-day 
did  not  sound  like  a  mere  recitation.  .  It  seemed  as 
though  she  were  saying  the  words  especially  to  me, 
and  for  me,  to  give  me  comfort." 

To  Renti  the  words  bring  many  memories  that 
make  him  thoughtful  and  at  the  same  very  happy. 


ANNOUNCEMENTS 


CLASSICS  FOR  CHILDREN 


TH I S  series  of  books  consists  so  far  as  possible  of  complete 
works  from  the  great  masters,  specially  edited  to  meet  the 
wants  of  young  people  in  the  school  and  in  the  home. 


List 
price 

Aesop's  Fables  .  .  .  ^.35 
Andersen's  Fairy  Tales, 

No.  I 40 

Andersen's  Fairy  Tales, 

No.  2 40 

Arabian  Nights  ...  .45 
Bunyan's  Pilgrim's  Prog- 
ress     30 

Burt's  Stories  from  Plato  .40 
Cervantes'  Don  Quixote  .50 
Chamisso's    Peter 

Schlemihl 30 

Chesterfield's  Letters  .  .30 
Church's   Stories  of   the 

Old  World  ...  .50 
Defoe's  Robinson  Crusoe  .35 
Dickens'   Tale    of    Two 

Cities 50 

Epictetus 50 

Fiske-Irving's  Washing- 
ton      60 

F6uqu6's  Undine  ...  .30 
Fi^ncillon's     Gods    and 

Heroes 40 

Franklin:    His   Life   by 

Himself 40 

Goldsmith's     Vicar     of 

Wakefield 30 

Grimm's     Fairy     Tales, 

Part  I 35 

Grimm's     Fairy     Tales, 

Part  II 35 

Grote  and  S6gur's  Two 

Great  Retreats    .    .      .50 

Hatim  Tai 45 

Hughes'  Tom  Brown  at 

Rugby 50 

Hugo's  Jean  Valjean  .  .90 
Irving's  Alhambra  .  .  45 
Irving's  Sketch-Book. 

(Six  Selections)  .  .  .25 
Jefferies'  Sir  Bevis     .    .      .30 


Mailing 
price 

^.40 


List    Mailing 

price  price 

Johnson's  Rasselas     .    .  ^.35  ^^.40 
Kingsley's  Greek  Heroes      .30        .35 

Kingsley's  Water-Babies       .35  .45 
Lamb's    Adventures    of 

Ulysses 30  .35 

Lamb's   Tales  from 

Shakespeare    ...      .40  .50 

Litchfield's  Nine  Worlds       .50  .60 

Marcus  Aurelius    ...       .50  ,60 
Martineau's  Peasant  and 

the  Prince 40  .45 

M  ontgomery's    Heroic 

Ballads 50  .60 

Plutarch's  Lives     ...       .45  .55 

Ram6e's  Bimbi 40  .45 

Ruskin,  Selections  from      .35  .40 
Ruskin's    King    of    the 

Golden  River      .     .       .25  .29 

Saintine's  Picciola      .    .      .35  .40 

Scott's  Guy  Mannering  .      .60  .70 

Ivanhoe 60  .70 

Lady  of  the  Lake    .     .      •35-45 
Lay    of    the    Last 

Minstrel 30  .35 

Marmion 40  .50 

Old  Mortality     ...      .60  .70 

Quentin  Durward  .    .      .50  .60 

Rob  Roy 60  .70 

Tales  of  a  Grandfather      .40  .50 

Talisman 50  .60 

Shakespeare's   Merchant 

of  Venice 30  .35 

Southey's  Life  of  Nelson      .45  .55 

Spyri's  Heidi 40  .50 

Swift's     Gulliver's 

Travels 35  .40 

White's  Selborne   ...      .50  .60 
Williams    and     Foster's 
Selections  for  Mem- 
orizing     40  .50 

Wyss'   Swiss   Family 

Robinson 45  .55 


GINN    &    COMPANY    Publishers 


WOOD    FOLK   SERIES 

By  WILLIAM  J.    LONG 

THE  unique  merit  of  this  nature  student  rests  in  his  fascinating  style  of 
writing,  which  invariably  interests  young  and  old;   for  without  this 
element  his  pioneer  work  in  the  realm  of  nature  would  now  be  familiar 
only  to  scientists.     As  it  is,  Long's  Wood  Folk  Series  is  in  use  in 
thousands  of  schools  the  country  over,  has  been  adopted  by  many  reading  circles, 
and  is  now  on  the  library  lists  of  six  important  states ;  thus  leading  laymen, 
young  and  old,  into  the  wonderland  of  nature  hitherto  entirely  closed  to  all. 

WAYS    OF  WOOD    FOLK 

205  pages.     Illustrated.     List  price,  50  cents  ;  mailing  price,  60  cents 

This  delightful  work  tells  of  the  lives  and  habits  of  the  commoner  wood  folk,  such 
as  the  crow,  the  rabbit,  the  wild  duck.  The  book  is  profusely  illustrated  by  Charles 
Copeland  and  other  artists. 

WILDERNESS   WAYS 

155  pages.     Illustrated.     List  price,  45  cents;  mailing  price,  50  cents 

"  Wilderness  Ways  "  is  written  in  the  same  intensely  interesting  style  as  its  predeces- 
sor, "  Ways  of  Wood  Folk."  The  hidden  life  of  the  wilderness  is  here  presented  by 
sketches  and  stories  gathered,  not  from  books  or  hearsay,  but  from  the  author's  personal 
contact  with  wild  things  of  every  description. 

SECRETS    OF  THE   WOODS 

184  pages.     Illustrated.     List  price,  50  cents  ;  mailing  price,  60  cents 

This  is  another  chapter  in  the  shy,  wild  life  of  the  fields  and  woods.  Little  Toohkees, 
the  wood  mouse  that  dies  of  fright  in  the  author's  hand ;  the  mother  otter,  Keeonekh, 
teaching  her  little  ones  to  swim ;  and  the  little  red  squirrel  with  his  many  curious  habits, 
—  all  are  presented  with  the  same  liveliness  and  color  that  characterize  the  descriptions 
in  the  first  two  volumes.  The  illustrations  by  Charles  Copeland  are  unusually  accurate 
in  portraying  animal  life  as  it  really  exists  in  its  native  haunts. 

WOOD    FOLK  AT   SCHOOL 

186  pages.     Illustrated.     List  price,  50  cents  ;  mailing  price,  60  cents 

The  title  of  this  new  book  suggests  the  central  thought  about  which  the  author  has 
grouped  some  of  his  most  fascinating  animal  studies.  To  him  "  the  summer  wilderness 
is  one  vast  schoolroom  in  which  a  multitude  of  wise,  patient  mothers  are  teaching  their 
little  ones  the  things  they  must  know  in  order  to  hold  their  place  in  the  world  and  escape 
unharmed  from  a  hundred  dangers."  This  book,  also,  is  adequately  illustrated  by  Charles 
Copeland. 

A   LITTLE    BROTHER  TO   THE    BEAR 

178  pages.     Illustrated.     List  price,  50  cents  ;  maiHng  price,  60  cents 

This  latest  book  in  the  Wood  Folk  Series  contains  observations  covering  a  period  of 
nearly  thirty  years.  Some  of  the  chapters  represent  the  characteristics  of  animals  of  the 
same  species,  and  others  show  the  acute  intelligence  of  certain  individual  animals  that 
nature  seems  to  have  lifted  far  above  the  level  of  their  fellows.  The  book  is  well  illus- 
trated and  is  the  most  noteworthy  contribution  to  nature  literature  during  the  past  two  years. 


GINN    &    COMPANY    Publishers 


RETURN  TO  the  circulation  desk  of  any 
University  of  California  Library 
or  to  the 
NORTHERN  REGIONAL  LIBRARY  FACILITY 
BIdg.  400,  Richmond  Field  Station 
University  of  California 
Richmond,  CA  94804-4698 

ALL  BOOKS  MAY  BE  RECALLED  AFTER  7  DAYS 

•  2-month  loans  may  be  renewed  by  calling 
(510)642-6753 

•  1  -year  loans  may  be  recharged  by  bringing 
books  to  NRLF 

•  Renewals  and  recharges  may  be  made  4 
days  prior  to  due  date. 

DUE  AS  STAMPED  BELOW 


Wim27l999 


m  I  y  Moi 


^&\3\: 


